If) 


GO 


No. 


Division 


Rang 
Shelf 


Received 


1 87^.. 


MAMMON; 


x^rTv 
COVETOUSNESS  THE  SIN 


THE  CHRISTIAN   CHURCH 


BY  REV.  JOHN  HARRIS, 

AUTHOR   OF    THE    "GREAT    THACHIR." 


PUBLISHED  BY  THE 

AMERICAN   TRACT   SOCIETY 

180   NASSAU. STREET,  NEW   YORK. 


In  this  edition,  the  phraseology  has  been  m  a 
few  instances  slightly  changed. 


A  premium  of  One  Hundred  Guineas,  of- 
fered by  J.  T.  CONQUEST,  ESQ.  M.  D.  F.  L.  S. 
was  awarded  to  this  incomparable  Treatise  by 
the  HON.  AND  REV.  BAPTIST  W.  NOEL  and 
the  REV.  DR.  JOHN  PYE  SMITH,  near  London ; 
and  employed  by  the  Author  in  the  cause  of 
benevolence. 


CONTENTS- 


PART  I. 

SELFISHNESS   THE   ANTAGONIST   OF  THE   GOSPEL. 

Page. 

SECT.  1. — The  universe  designed  to  display  and  enjoy 

the  love  of  God  ...*..  9 

SECT.  2.— Sin,  as  selfishness,  aims  to  frustrate  the  Di- 
vine plan.  *  ?.-i.  -#':;;  .T^i,;k££a(.L '-.  •  11 

SECT.  3. — Selfishness  the  prevailing  form  of  sin.         .    14 

SECT.  4. — The  Gospel,  as  a  system  of  benevolence,  op- 
posed to  selfishness  .  .  .  .  .17 

SECT.  5. — Selfishness,  the  sin  of  the  world,  has  long 

since  become  the  sin  of  the  church  .  .  30 

SECT.  6. — The  forms  of  selfishness  in  the  church  .        .    35 

PART  II. 

COVETOUSNESS  THE  PRINCIPAL  FORM  OF  SELFISHNESS 
— IN  ITS  NATURE,  FORMS,  PREVALENCE  ESPECIAL- 
LY IN  BRITAIN,  DISGUISES,  TESTS,  EVILS,  DOOM, 
AND  PLEAS. 

SECT.  1. — The  nature  of  co vetousness  .        .  •    53 

SECT.  2. — Forms  of  covetousness 57 

SECT.  3. — Prevalence  of  covetousness    •        .        .        .61 


6  CONTENTS. 

Page. 
SECT.  4. — The  present  predominance  of  covetousness 

in  Britain  .  >V.  I*.  ;*  •  .  -  .  79 
SECT.  5. — The  disguises  of  covetousness  .  .  .98 
SECT.  6. — Tests  of  covetousness  .....  108 
SECT.  7. — The  guilt  and  evils  of  covetousness  .  ;  123 
SECT.  8. — The  doom  of  covetousness  ....  166 
SECT.  9.— -Excuse  of  covetousness  for  its  want  of  libe- 
rality .  ,.  r  ^ 180 

PART  IIL 

CHRISTIAN    LIBERALITY   EXPLAINED   AND    ENFORCED. 

SECT.  1. — Christian  liberality  explained        .       .        .  219 
SECT.  2.— -Christian  liberality  enforced .       .       t       .847 


PART  THE   FIRST. 
Selfishness  the  Antagonist  of  the  Gospel* 


MAMMON; 

OR, 

E>TJj|&<JS>WJ538f£S 

THE    SIN    OF   THE 

CHRISTIAN   CHURCH. 


SECTION  L 

The  Universe  designed  to  display  and  enjoy  the  Love 
of  God. 

•  '•  1    sP«5 

"  God  is  love  :"  and  the  true  theory  of  the  uni- 
verse is,  that  it  is  a  vehicle  or  medium  constructed 
expressly  for  the  circulation  and  diffusion  of  his 
love.  Full  of  blessedness  himself,  his  goodness 
burst  forth,  at  first,  into  a  celestial  creation,  replen- 
ished with  bright  intelligences,  invested  with  the 
high  prerogative  of  approaching  as  near  to  the 
Fountain  of  excellence  as  created  natures  can,  to 
derive  their  happiness  immediately  from  himself, 
fcnd  to  derive  it  to  the  full  amount  of  their  capa- 
city for  enjoyment. 

But  heaven,  with  all  its  amplitude,  was  too  con- 


10  MAMMON. 

fined  for  Infinite  Love ;  he  must  enlarge  the  sphere 
of  his  beneficence  ;  again  his  unconfined  goodness 
overflowed,  and  this  terrestrial  creation  appear- 
ed— an  enlargement  of  heaven.  On  that  occasion, 
however,  he  chose  to  diversify  the  form  of  his  love 
in  the  production  of  man, — a  creature  whose  hap- 
piness, though  equally  with  that  of  angels  derived 
from  himself,  should  reach  him  through  more  indi 
rect  and  circuitous  channels.  By  creating,  at  first, 
one  common  father  of  the  species,  ne  designed 
that  each  individual  should  feel  himself  allied  to 
all  the  rest,  and  pledged  to  promote  their  happi 
ness.  And  by  rendering  us  necessary  to  each 
other's  welfare,  he  sought  to  train  us  to  an  hum- 
ble imitation  of  his  own  goodness,  to  teach  us  the 
Divine  art  of  benevolence — to  find  and  fabricate 
our  own  happiness  from  the  happiness  of  others. 
Now,  if  the  former,  the  angelic  creation,  was 
meant  to  exemplify  how  much  his  creatures  could 
enjoy,  the  latter  was  intended  to  show  how  much 
they  could  impart ;  for  he  meant  every  heart  and 
every  hand  to  be  a  consecrated  channel  for  his  love 
to  flow  in.  Had  his  great  idea  been  realized,  the 
world  would  have  exhibited  the  glorious  spectacle 
of  a  whole  race  in  family  compact ;  clothed  in  a 
robe  of  happiness,  with  charity  for  a  girdle ;  feast- 


SECTION    II.  11 

ing  at  a  perpetual  banquet  of  beneficence  ;  hailing 
the  accession  of  every  new-born  member  as  the 
advent  of  an  angel,  an  addition  to  their  common 
fund  of  enjoyment ;  and  finding  greater  blessed- 
ness than  that  of  passively  receiving  happiness  in 
exercising  the  godlike  prerogative  of  imparting  it; 
a  whole  order  of  intelligent  beings  having  one  heart 
and  one  mind;  a  heart  beating  in  concert  with 
heaven,  and  diffusing,  with  every  pulse,  life,  and 
health,  and  joy,  to  the  remotest  members  of  the 
body.  The  mere  outline  of  the  scene,  as  sketched 
by  God  in  Paradise,  called  forth  audible  expres- 
sions of  his  Divine  complacency ;  on  surveying  it 
from  the  height  of  the  excellent  glory,  he  pro- 
nounced it  good,  and  the  light  of  his  countenance 
fell  full  upon  it. 


'  '  'j     SECTION  II. 

Sin,  aft  Selfishness,  aims  at  the  frustration  of  the 
Divine  Plan. 

But  sin,  in  its  invasion,  aimed  to  frustrate  the 
Divine  intention,  to  destroy  it  even  in  its  type  and 


12  MAMMON. 

model.  Man  aspired  to  be  as  God  ;  and  from  that 
fatal  moment  his  great  quarrel  with  his  Maker  has 
been  a  determination  to  assert  a  state  of  indepen- 
dence altogether  alien  to  his  nature  and  condition. 
The  standard  of  revolt  was  then  erected,  and  the 
history  of  all  his  subsequent  conduct  has  been  the 
history  of  an  insane  endeavour  to  construct  an  em- 
pire governed  by  laws,  and  replenished  with  re- 
sources, independent  of  God.  The  idolatry  and 
sensuality,  the  unbelief,  irreligion,  and  all  the  mul- 
tiform sins  of  man,  are  resolvable  into  this  proud 
and  infernal  attempt.  Having  by  his  apostacy  cut 
himself  off  from  God,  he  affects  to  be  a  god  to  him- 
self, to  be  his  own  sufficiency,  his  own  first  and  last. 
Such,  however,  is  the  intimate  dependence  of  man 
on  man,  that  it  is  impossible  for  him  to  attempt  to 
realize  this  enormous  fiction  without  being  brought 
at  every  step  into  violent  collision  with  the  interests 
of  his  fellows.  Love  to  God  is  the  all-combining 
principle  which  was  to  hold  each  individual  in  adhe- 
sion to  all  the  rest,  and  the  whole  in  affinity  with 
God ;  the  loss  of  that,  therefore,  like  the  loss  of  the 
great  law  of  attraction  in  the  material  world,  leaves 
all  the  several  parts  in  a  state  of  repulsion  to  each 
other,  as  well  as  the  whole  disjoined  from  God. 
Having  lost  its  proper  centre  in  God,  the  world  at- 


SECTION   II.  13 

tempts  not  to  find  any  common  point  of  repose, 
but  spends  itself  in  fruitless  efforts  to  erect  an  infi- 
nity of  independent  interests.  Every  kingdom  and 
province,  every  family,  every  individual,  discovers 
a  propensity  to  insulate  himself  from  the  common 
brotherhood,  and  to  constitute  himself  the  centre 
of  an  all  subordinating  and  ever-enlarging  circle. 
Such  is  the  natural  egotism  of  the  heart,  that  each 
individual,  following  his  unrestrained  bent,  acts  as 
if  he  were  a  whole  kingdom  in  himself;  and  as  if 
the  general  well-being  depended  on  subjection  to 
his  supremacy.  Setting  up  for  himself,  to  the  ex- 
clusion of  every  other  being,  he  would  fain  be  his 
own  end, — the  reason  of  all  he  does. 

Under  the  disorganizing  influence  of  sin,  then, 
the  tendency  of  mankind  is  towards  a  state  of  uni- 
versal misanthropy ;  and  were  it  not  that  some  of 
their  selfish  ends  can  be  attained  only  by  partial 
confederations,  the  world  would  disband,  society  in 
all  its  forms  would  break  up,  every  man's  hand 
would  be  turned  into  a  weapon,  and  all  the  earth 
become  a  battle-field  in  which  the  issues  to  be  de- 
cided would  be  as  numerous  as  the  combatants,  so 
that  the  conflict  could  end  only  with  the  destruction 
of  every  antagonist. 

There  is,  be  it  observed,  a  wide  difference  be- 


14  MAMMON. 

tween  selfishness  and  legitimate  self-love.  The 
latter  is  a  principle  necessary  to  all  sentient  ex- 
istence. In  man  it  is  the  principle  which  impels 
him  to  preserve  his  own  life,  and  promote  his 
.own  happiness.  Love  to  God  and  our  neighbor 
does  not  annihilate,  but  rather  cherishes  a  regard 
to  our  own  highest  good.  True  piety  gives  this 
regard  the  right  direction,  and  guides  it  to  seek 
supreme  happiness  in  God.  It  is  the  act  or  habit 
of  a  man  who  so  loves  himself  that  he  gives  him- 
self to  God.  Selfishness  is  fallen  self-love.  It 
is  self-love  in  excess,  blind  to  the  existence  and 
excellence  of  God,  and  seeking  its  happiness  in 
inferior  objects,  by  aiming  to  subdue  them  to  its 
own  purposes. 


, ;;,,;  SECTION  m. 

Selfishness  the  prevailing1  form  of  Sin. 

Accordingly  selfishness,  as  we  have  already  inti- 
mated, is  the  prevailing,  not  to  say  universal  form  of 
human  depravity ;  every  sin  is  but  a  modification  of 
it.  What  is  avarice  but  selfishness  grasping  and 


SECTION   III.  15 

hoarding  ?  What  is  prodigality  but  selfishness  de- 
corating and  indulging  itself — a  man  sacrificing  to 
himself  as  his  own  god  ]  What  is  sloth  but  that 
god  asleep,  and  refusing  to  attend  to  the  loud  calls 
of  duty  1  And  what  is  idolatry  but  that  god  en- 
shrined— man  worshipping  the  reflection  of  his  own 
image  1  Sensuality,  and  indeed  all  the  sins  of  the 
flesh,  are  only  selfishness  setting  itself  above  law, 
and  gratifying  itself  at  the  expense  of  all  restraint. 
And  all  the  sins  of  the  spirit  are  only  the  same 
principle  impatient  of  contradiction,  and  refusing 
to  acknowledge  superiority,  or  to  bend  to  any  will 
but  its  own.  What  is  egotism  but  selfishness  speak- 
ing ?  Or  crime,  but  selfishness,  without  its  mask, 
in  earnest  and  acting  ?  Or  offensive  war,  but  selfish- 
ness confederated,  armed,  and  bent  on  aggrandiz- 
ing itself  by  violence  and  blood  ]  An  offensive  army 
is  the  selfishness  of  a  nation  embodied,  and  moving 
to  the  attainment  of  its  object  over  the  wrecks  of 
human  happiness  and  life.  "  From  whence  come 
wars  and  fightings  among  you]  Come  they  not 
hence,  even  of  your  lusts  ?"  And  what  are  all  these 
irregular  and  passionate  desires  but  that  inordinate 
self-love  which  acknowledges  no  law,  and  will  be 
confined  by  no  rules — that  selfishness  which  is  the 
heart  of  depravity  1 — and  what  but  this  has  set  the 


16  MAMMON. 

world  at  variance,  and  filled  it  with  strife  1  The 
first  presumed  sin  of  the  angels  that  kept  not  their 
first  estate,  as  well  as  the  first  sin  of  man — what 
was  it  but  selfishness  insane  ?  an  irrational  and 
mad  attempt  to  pass  the  limits  proper  to  the  crea- 
ture, to  invade  the  throne,  and  to  seize  the  rights 
of  the  Deity  1  And  were  we  to  analyze  the  very 
last  sin  of  which  we  ourselves  are  conscious,  we 
should  discover  that  selfishness,  in  one  or  other  of 
its  thousand  forms,  was  its  parent.  Thus,  if  love 
was  the  pervading  principle  of  the  unfallen  crea- 
tion, it  is  equally  certain  that  selfishness  is  the 
reigning  law  of  the  world  ravaged  and  disorganized 
by  sin. 

It  must  be  obvious,  then,  that  the  great  want  of 
fallen  man,  is  a  Divine  remedy  for  selfishness, 
the  epidemic  disease  of  our  nature.  The  expedient 
which  should  profess  to  remedy  our  condition,  and 
yet  leave  this  want  unprovided  for,  whatever  its 
other  recommendations  might  be,  would  be  leaving 
the  seat  and  core  of  our  disease  untouched.  Aod 
it  would  be  easy  to  show  that  in  this  radical  defect 
consists  the  impotence  of  every  system  of  false 
religion,  and  of  every  heterodox  modification  of 
the  true  religion,  to  restore  our  disordered  nature 
to  happiness  and  God.  And  equally  easy  is  it  to 


SECTION    IV. 


17 


show  that  the  Gospel  evangelically  interpreted,  not 
only  takes  cognizance  of  this  peculiar  feature  of 
our  malady,  but  actually  treats  it  as  the  very  root 
of  our  depravity,  and  addresses  itself  directly  to 
the  task  of  its  destruction, — that,  as  the  first  effect 
of  sin  was  to  produce  selfishness,  so  the  first  effect 
of  the  Gospel  remedy  is  to  destroy  that  evil,  and  to 
replace  it  with  benevolence. 


SECTION  IV, 

The  Gospel,  as  a  System  of  Btnevotence^  opposed   to 
Selfishness* 

It  is  the  glory  of  the  Gospel  that  it  was  calculat- 
ed and  arranged  on  the  principle  of  restoring  to  the 
world  the  lost  spirit  of  benevolence.  To  realize  this 
enterprise  of  boundless  mercy,  Jehovah  resolved 
on  first  presenting  to  mankind  an  unparalleled  ex- 
hibition of  grace — an  exhibition  which,  if  it  failed 
to  re-kindle  extinguished  love  in  the  heart  of  man, 
should,  at  least,  have  the  effect  of  kindling  anew 
the  raptures  of  angels  and  seraphs  around  his 

Mammoa.  -' 


18  MAMMON. 

throne.  The  ocean  of  divine  love  was  stirred  to 
its  utmost  depths.  The  entire  Godhead  was — if 
with  profound  reverence  it  may  be  said — put  into 
activity.  The  three  glorious  subsistencies  in  the 
Divine  Essence  moved  towards  our  earth.  Every 
attribute  and  distinction  of  the  Divine  Nature  was 
displayed  :  the  Father,  the  Son,  and  the  Holy  Spirit, 
embarked  their  infinite  treasures  in  the  cause  of 
human  happiness. 

"  God  so  loved  the  world,  that  he  gave  his  only 
begotten  Son,  that  whosoever  believeth  in  him 
should  not  perish,  but  have  everlasting  life."  He 
could  not  give  us  more ;  and  the  vast  propensions 
of  his  grace  could  not  be  satisfied  by  bestowing 
less.  He  would  not  leave  it  possible  to  be  said  that 
he  could  give  us  more  :  he  resolved  to  pour  out  the 
whole  treasury  of  heaven,  to  give  us  his  all  at  once. 
"  Herein  is  love  !" — love  defying  all  computation  ; 
the  very  mention  of  which  should  surcharge  our 
hearts  with  gratitude,  give  us  an  idea  of  infinity, 
and  replace  our  selfishness  with  a  sentiment  of  gene- 
rous and  diffusive  benevolence. 

Jesus  Christ  came  into  the  world  as  the  embodied 
love  of  God.  He  came  and  stood  before  the  world 
with  the  hoarded  love  of  eternity  in  his  heart,  offer- 
ing to  make  us  the  heirs  of  all  its  wealth.  He  so 


SECTION   IV.  19 

unveiled  and  presented  the  character  of  God,  that 
every  human  being  should  feel  that  God  can  be 
"just  and  the  justifier  of  him  that  believeth  in  Je- 
sus." "He  pleased  not  himself."  He  did  nothing  for 
himself;  whatever  he  did  was  for  the  advantage 
of  man.  Selfishness  stood  abashed  in  his  presence. 
"  He  went  about  doing  good  "  He  assumed  our 
nature  expressly  that  he  might  be  able  to  suffer  in 
our  stead ;  for  the  distinct  and  deliberate  object  of 
pouring  out  his  blood,  and  of  making  his  soul  an 
offering  for  sin.  He  planted  a  cross,  and  presented 
to  the  world  a  prodigy  of  mercy  of  which  this  is  the 
only  solution,  that  he  "  so  loved  us."  "  While  we 
were  yet  sinners,  Christ  died  for  us."  He  took  oui 
place  in  the  universe,  espoused  our  interest,  open- 
ed his  bosom,  and  welcomed  to  his  heart  the  stroke 
which  we  had  deserved. 

And  in  all  he  did,  he  thought  of  the  world.  He 
loved  man  as  man  ;  he  came  to  be  the  light  and  life 
of  the  world.  He  came  and  stood  as  the  centre  of 
attraction  to  a  race  of  beings  scattered  and  dissipa- 
ted by  the  repulsive  power  of  selfishness.  He  pro- 
posed by  the  power  of  the  cross  to  "  draw  all  men 
unto  him."  His  heart  had  room  for  the  whole  race ; 
and,  opening  his  arms,  he  invited  all  to  come  unto 
him.  The  whole  of  his  course  was  a  historv  of 


20  MAMMON. 

pure  and  disinterested  benevolence ;  one  continued 
act  of  condescension ;  a  vast  and  unbroken  descent 
from  the  heights  of  heaven,  to  the  form  of  a  ser- 
vant, the  life  of  an  outcast,  the  death  of  a  malefac- 
tor. His  character  is  a  study  of  goodness — a  study 
for  the  universe ;  it  is  the  conception  of  a  Being  of 
infinite  amiableness,  seeking  to  engage  and  enamour 
the  heart  of  a  selfish  world.  The  world,  having 
lost  the  original  idea  of  goodness  and  sunk  into  a 
state  of  universal  selfishness,  his  character  was  cal 
culated  and  formed  on  the  principle  of  a  laborious 
endeavour  to  recall  the  departed  spirit  of  benevo- 
lence, and  baptize  it  afresh  in  the  element  of  love. 
The  office  of  the  Holy  Spirit  is  appointed  and 
concurs  to  the  same  end.  The  world  could  not  be 
surprised  out  of  its  selfishness  and  charmed  into 
benevolence  by  the  mere  spectacle  even  of  divine 
love.  That  love  can  be  understood  only  by  sym- 
pathy ;  but  for  this,  sin  had  disqualified  us.  Ac- 
cording to  the  economy  of  grace,  therefore,  the  ex- 
hibition of  that  love  in  God  is  to  be  made  the  means 
of  producing  love  in  us ;  the  glorious  spectacle  oi 
love  as  beheld  in  God,  is  to  be  turned  into  a  living 
principle  in  us.  For  this  end,  the  holy,  unconfined, 
and  infinite  Sphit  came  down.  His  emblem  is  the 
wind ;  he  came  like  a  rushing  mighty  wind,  came 


SECTION    IV.  21 

with  a  fullness  and  a  power  as  if  he  sought  to  fill 
every  heart,  to  replenish  the  church,  to  be  the  soul 
of  the  world,  to  encircle  the  earth  with  an  atmos 
phere  of  grace  as  real  and  universal  as  the  elemen- 
tal air  which  encompasses  and  circulates  around 
the  globe  itself,  that  whoever  inhaled  it  might  have 
eternal  life. 

In  the  prosecution  of  his  office  he  was  to  take  of 
the  things  of  Christ,  and  show  them  unto  men. 
Heaven  stooping  to  earth ;  God  becoming  man, 
dying  upon  the  cross ;  infinite  benevolence  pour- 
ing out  all  its  treasures  for  human  happiness, — 
these  were  the  things  which  he  was  to  reveal, — the 
softening  and  subduing  elements  with  which  he 
was  to  approach  and  enter  the  human  heart.  In 
his  hands  these  truths  were  to  become  spirit  and 
life.  From  the  moment  they  were  felt,  men  were 
to  be  conscious  of  a  change  in  their  relation  both 
to  God  and  to  each  other.  A  view  of  the  great  love 
wherewith  he  had  loved  them,  was  to  fill  their 
minds  with  a  grand  and  overpowering  sentiment  of 
benevolence,  which  should  melt  their  obduracy, 
cause  them  to  glow  with  gratitude,  and  bind  them 
fast  to  himself  in  the  strongest  bands  of  love.  That 
love,  with  all  the  communicativeness  of  fire,  was  to 
extend  to  their  fellow-men.  Every  weapon  of  re- 


22  MAMMON. 

venge  was  to  fall  from  their  hands ;  every  epithet 
of  anger  was  to  die  on  their  lips ;  and  where,  be- 
fore, they  saw  nothing  but  foes,  they  were  hence- 
forth to  behold  most  noble  objects  of  affection, 
immortal  beings,  whom  it  would  be  happiness  to 
love,  and  godlike  to  bless.  The  love  of  Christ 
would  constrain  them ;  glowing  and  circulating  in 
their  spiritual  system,  like  the  life-blood  in  their 
hearts,  it  would  impel  them  to  be  active  for  his 
glory.  Having  communed  with  the  heart  of  Infi- 
nite Love,  they  were  to  go  forth  and  mingle  with 
their  race,  filled  with  a  benevolence  like  that  which 
brought  their  Lord  from  heaven.  Placing  them- 
selves at  his  disposal,  they  were  to  find  that  they 
were  no  longer  detached  from  the  species,  but  re- 
stored and  related  to  all  around ;  the  sworn  and 
appointed  agents  of  happiness  to  the  world. 

The  institution  of  a  church,  is  only  the  continua- 
tion and  application  of  the  great  scheme  of  love. 
Its  offices  were  not  to  terminate  on  itself.  It  was 
constructed  on  the  principle  of  consolidating  and 
facilitating  the  operations  of  divine  benevolence 
upon  the  world.  The  Son  of  God — the  great  mani- 
festation of  that  love — must  personally  withdraw 
from  the  earth ;  but  his  church,  consisting  of  the 
aggregate  of  all  on  whom  that  love  had  taken 


SECTION    IV.  '3 

effect,  would  continue  to  give  visibility  and  activity 
to  that  love.  He  stopped  not  at  the  bare  exhibition 
of  his  grace,  but  turned  that  exhibition  into  a  means 
of  implanting  a  kindred  principle  of  love  in  the  hu- 
man heart ;  he  stopped  not  at  the  implantation  of 
this  principle,  but  instituted  a  church  for  the  ex- 
press purpose  of  employing  it  for  the  benefit  of  the 
world ;  of  employing  it  on  the  largest  scale  and 
with  the  greatest  effect;  and  of  thus  conferring  on 
it  the  power  of  propagating  itself. 

In  the  Christian  church,  every  thing  would  con- 
spire to  keep  alive  in  its  members  the  new  princi- 
ple which  Christ  had  brought  into  the  world,  and 
to  give  efficiency  to  its  benign  operations.  Love 
was  the  principle  which  would  bring  them  together, 
which  would  draw  them  from  their  distant  and  de- 
tached positions,  harmonize  their  jarring  natures, 
and  fuse  all  their  hearts  and  interests  into  one. 
Converging  from  the  most  opposite  points,  they 
would  meet  at  the  cross  ;  and  the  principle  which 
had  drawn  them  to  that,  would  bind  them  to  each 
other.  Each 'would  behold  in  every  other  a  living 
memorial  of  his  Lord ;  and  see,  in  the  grace  of 
Christ  to  the  whole,  a  token  of  that  grace  tp  him- 
self in  particular.  Here,  love,  as  an  agent  or  in- 
strument, either  giving  or  receiving,  was  to  find 


24  MAMMON. 

itself  in  perpetual  exercise,  and  to  behold  its  image 
reflected  in  every  face. 

But  Love  is  diffusive ;  it  would  not  confine  its 
offices  to  those  only  who  could  repay  them  ;  burst- 
ing the  limits  of  the  church,  it  would  seek  the  world. 
Every  heart  in  which  it  glowed  finding  itself  allied 
to  every  other  Christian  heart,  and  the  whole  feel- 
ing themselves  reinforced  with  the  benevolence  of 
heaven,  would  meditate  the  conversion  of  the  world. 
As  often  as  they  approached  the  throne  of  grace, 
they  would  find  themselves  touching  the  springs  of 
universal  and  Almighty  love, — and  would  they  not 
yearn  to  behold  these  springs  in  activity  for  the 
world  1  As  often  as  they  thought  of  that  love  em- 
bracing themselves,  their  own  love  would  burn  with 
ten-fold  fervour;  the  selfishness  of  their  nature  would 
be  consumed,  the  most  enlarged  designs  of  benevo- 
lence would  seem  too  small,  the  most  costly  sacri- 
fices too  cheap ;  they  would  feel  as  if  they  must 
precipitate  themselves  into  some  boundless  field  of 
beneficence ;  as  if  they  could  only  breathe  and  act 
in  a  sphere  which  knows  no  circumference.  As 
often  as  they  surveyed  their  infinite  resources  in 
Christ,  and  perceived  that  when  all  their  own  ne- 
cessities were  supplied  those  resources  were  infi- 
nite still,  they  would  naturally  remember  the  exi- 


SECTION    IV.  ZO 

gencies  of  others ;  would  feel  that  they  had  access 
to  the  whole,  that  they  might  instrumentally  impart 
of  that  abundance  to  others.  The  feast  would  be 
prepared,  the  provisions  infinite ;  and  when  they 
were  seated  at  the  banquet,  and  contrasted  that 
plenitude  of  food  with  the  fewness  of  the  guests, 
they  would  conceive  a  fixed  determination  not  to 
cease  inviting  till  all  the  world  should  be  sitting 
with  them  at  the  feast  of  salvation.  The  name 
they  were  to  bear  would  perpetually  remind  them 
of  him  from  whom  they  had  derived  it ;  and  would 
it  be  possible  for  them  to  have  their  minds  inhabit- 
ed by  the  glorious  idea  of  Christ  without  receiving 
corresponding  impressions  of  greatness  ? — It  would 
be  associated  in  their  minds  with  all  things  great, 
beneficent,  godlike,  impelling  them  to  imitate  to 
the  utmost  his  diffusive  goodness.  But  not  only 
their  name,  from  him  they  would  have  derived 
their  nature;  by  necessity  of  nature,  therefore, 
they  would  pant  to  behold  universal  happiness. 
Not  only  would  they  feel  that  every  accession  to 
their  number  was  an  increase  of  their  happiness  ; 
as  long  as  the  least  portion  of  the  world  remained 
unblessed,  and  unsaved,  they  would  feel  that  their 
happiness  was  incomplete.  Nothing  less  than  the 
salvation  of  the  whole  world  would  be  regarded  by 


26  MAMMON. 

them  as  the  complement  of  their  number,  the  ful- 
filment of  their  office,  the  consummation  of  their  joy. 
Thus  the  Christian  church,  like  the  leaven  hid  in 
the  meal,  was  to  pervade  and  assimilate  the  entire 
mass  of  humanity.  At  first,  it  would  resemble  an 
imperium  in  imperio,  a  dominion  of  love  flourishing 
amidst  arid  wastes  of  selfishness ;  but,  extending 
on  all  sides  its  peaceful  conquests,  it  would  be  seen 
transforming  and  encompassing  the  world.  Com- 
bining, and  concentrating  all  the  elements  of  moral 
power,  it  would  move  only  to  conquer,  and  conquer 
only  to  increase  the  means  of  conquest.  It  would 
behold  its  foes  converted  into  friends ;  and  then, 
assigning  to  each  an  appropriate  station  of  duty, 
would  bid  him  forthwith  go  and  try  upon  others 
the  power  of  that  principle  which  had  subdued  his 
own  opposition — the  omnipotent  power  of  love. 
Thus  thawing,  and  turning  into  its  own  substance, 
the  icy  selfishness  of  humanity,  the  great  principle 
of  benevolence  would  flow  through  the  world  with 
all  the  majesty  of  a  river,  widening  and  deepening 
at  every  point  of  its  progress  by  the  accession  of  a 
thousand  streams,  till  it  covered  the  earth  as  the 
waters  cover  the  sea.  They  who,  under  the  reign 
of  selfishness,  had  sought  to  contract  the  circle  of 
happiness  around  them  till  they  had  reduced  it  to 


SECTION    IV.  27 

their  own  little  centre,  under  the  benign  and  ex- 
pansive influence  of  the  Gospel,  would  not  only 
seek  to  enlarge  that  circle  to  embrace  the  world,  but 
to  multiply  and  diffuse  themselves  in  happiness  to 
its  utmost  circumference.  Feeling  that  good  is  in- 
divisible ;  that  to  be  enjoyed  in  perfection  by  one, 
it  must  be  shared  and  possessed  by  all,  they  would 
labor  till  all  the  race  were  blended  in  a  family  com- 
pact, and  were  partaking  together  the  rich  blessings 
of  salvation  ;  till,  by  their  instrumentality,  the  hand 
of  Christ  had  carried  a  golden  chain  of  love  around 
the  world,  binding  the  whole  together,  and  all  to 
the  throne  of  God. 

It  is  clear,  then,  that  the  entire  economy  of  sal- 
vation is  constructed  on  the  principle  of  restoring 
to  the  world  the  lost  spirit  of  love  :  this  is  its  boast 
and  glory.  Its  advent  was  an  era  in  the  universe. 
It  was  bringing  to  a  trial  the  relative  strength  of 
love  and  hatred  ; — the  darling  principle  of  heaven, 
and  the  great  principle  of  all  revolt  and  sin.  It 
was  confronting  selfishness  in  its  own  native  region, 
with  a  system  of  benevolence  prepared,  as  its  avow- 
ed antagonist,  by  the  hand  of  God  itself.  So  that, 
unless  we  would  impugn  the  skill  and  power  of  its 
Author,  we  must  suppose  that  it  was  studiously 
adapted  for  the  lofty  encounter.  With  this  con  vie- 


28  MAMMON. 

tion,  therefore,  we  should  have  been  justified  in 
saying,  had  we  been  placed  in  a  situation  to  say  it, 
"  Nothing  but  the  treachery  of  its  professed  friends 
can  defeat  it :  if  they  attempt  a  compromise  with 
the  spirit  of  selfishness,  there  is  every  thing  to  be 
feared;  but  let  the  heavenly  system  be  worked 
fairly,  and  there  is  every  thing  to  be  expected, — 
its  triumph  is  certain." 

But  has  its  object  been  realized  ]  More  than 
eighteen  hundred  years  have  elapsed  since  it  was 
brought  into  operation — has  its  design  succeeded  ] 
Succeeded  !  Alas  !  the  question  seems  a  taunt,  a 
mockery.  We  pass,  in  thought,  from  the  picture 
we  have  drawn  of  what  the  Gospel  was  intended 
to  effect,  to  the  contemplation  of  things  as  they  are, 
and  the  contrast  appals  us.  We  lift  our  eyes  from 
the  picture,  and,  like  a  person  awaking  from  a 
dream  of  happiness,  to  find  the  cup  of  wretched- 
ness in  his  hand,  the  pleasing  vision  has  fled.  Sel- 
fishness is  every  where  rife  and  rampant. 

But  why  is  it  thus  1  why  has  the  Gospel  been 
hitherto  threatened  with  the  failure  of  a  mere  hu- 
man experiment  1  When  first  put  into  activity  did 
it  discover  any  want  of  adaptation  to  its  professed 
purpose  ]  The  recollection  that  God  is  its  author, 
forbids  the  thought.  It  is  the  wisdom  of  God  and  the 


SECTION    IV.  29 

power  of  God.  But  besides  this,  as  if  to  anticipate 
the  question,  and  to  suggest  the  only  reply — as  if 
in  all  ages  to  agitate  an  inquiry  into  the  apparent 
inefficacy  of  the  Gospel,  and  to  flash  conviction  in 
the  face  of  the  church  as  often  as  the  question  is 
raised,  when  first  the  Gospel  commenced  its  career,  it 
triumphed  in  every  place.  No  form  of  selfishness 
could  stand  before  it.  It  went  forth  conquering  and 
to  conquer.  "  And  all  that  believed  were  together, 
and  had  all  things  common ;  and  sold  their  pos- 
sessions and  goods,  and  parted  them  to  all  men,  as 
every  man  had  need."  They  went  every  where 
preaching  the  Gospel.  They  felt  that  they  held  in 
their  hands  the  bread  of  life  for  a  famishing  world, 
and  they  "could  not  but"  break  and  dispense  it. 
The  love  of  Christ  constrained  them.  As  if  his  last 
command  were  constantly  sounding  in  their  ears, 
they  burned  to  preach  the  Gospel  to  every  crea- 
ture. They  felt  the  dignity  and  glory  of  their  po- 
sition, that  they  were  constituted  trustees  for  the 
world ;  executors  of  a  Saviour  who  had  bequeathed 
happiness  to  man ;  guardians  of  the  most  sacred 
rights  in  the  universe.  In  the  execution  of  their 
godlike  trust,  death  confronted  them  at  every  step; 
persecution,  armed,  brought  out  all  its  apparatus  of 
terror  and  torture,  and  planted  itself  full  in  their 


30  MAMMON. 

path  :  but  none  of  these  things  moved  them  ;  they 
scarcely  saw  them  ;  they  went  on  prosecuting  their 
lofty  task  of  making  the  world  happy,  for  they 
were  actuated  by  a  love  stronger  than  death.  The 
world  was  taken  by  surprise — never  before  had  it 
beheld  such  men — every  thing  gave  way  before 
them — city  after  city,  and  province  after  province, 
capitulated — yet  the  whole  secret  of  their  power 
was  love.  Diversified  as  they  were  in  mind,  coun 
try,  condition,  age — one  interest  prevailed ;  one 
subject  of  emulation  swallowed  up  every  other — 
which  should  do  most  for  the  enlargement  of  the 
reign  of  love.  A  fire  had  been  kindled  in  the  earth, 
which  consumed  the  selfishness  of  men  wherever 
it  came. 


SECTION  V. 


Selfishness,  the  Sin  of  the  World,  has  long  since  be- 
come the  Sin  of  the  Church. 

Again,  then,  we  repeat  the  momentous  inquiry — 
and  we  would  repeat  it  slowly,  solemnly,  and  with 
a  desire  to  receive  the  full  impression  of  the  only 


SECTION    V.  31 

answer  which  can  he  given  to  it :  What  has  pre- 
vented the  Gospel  from  fulfilling  its  first  promise, 
and  completely  taking  effect  1  what  has  hindered  it 
from  filling  every  heart,  every  province,  the  whole 
world,  the  entire  mass  of  humanity,  with  the  one 
spirit  of  Divine  benevolence  1  why,  on  the  contra- 
ry, has  the  Gospel,  the  great  instrument  of  Divine 
love,  been  threatened,  age  after  age,  with  failure'? 
It  must  be  attributed  solely  to  the  treachery  oj 
those  who  have  had  the  administration  of  it — to 
the  selfishness  of  the  church.  No  element  essen- 
tial to  success  has  been  left  out  of  its  arrange- 
ments ;  all  those  elements  have  always  been  in  the 
possession  of  the  church ;  no  new  form  of  evil  has 
arisen  in  the  world ;  no  antagonist  has  appeared 
there  which  the  Gospel  did  not  encounter  and  sub- 
due in  its  first  onset ;  yet  at  this  advanced  stage  of 
its  existence,  when  it  ought  to  be  reposing  from 
the  conquest  of  the  world,  the  church  listens  to  an 
account  of  its  early  triumphs,  as  if  they  were  meant 
only  for  wonder  and  not  for  imitation  ;  as  if  they 
partook  too  much  of  the  romance  of  benevolence 
to  be  again  attempted ;  now,  when  it  ought  to  be 
holding  the  world  in  fee,  it  is  barely  occupying  a 
few  scattered  provinces  as  if  by  sufferance,  and  has 
to  begin  its  conflicts  again.  And,  we  repeat,  the 


32  MAMMON. 

only  adequate  explanation  of  this  appalling  fact  is, 
that  selfishness,  the  sin  of  the  world,  has  become  the 
prevailing  sin  of  the  church. 

This  statement,  indeed,  may,  at  first  sight,  ap- 
pear inconsistent  with  the  truth,  that  the  church  is 
the  only  depository  and  instrument  of  divine  bene- 
volence. But  to  reconcile  the  two,  it  is  only  ne- 
cessary to  remember  that  every  component  part  of 
that  church,  each  Christian  heart,  taken  individually, 
is  only  an  epitome  of  the  state  of  the  world — par- 
tially sanctified,  and  partially  depraved — containing 
in  it,  indeed,  a  divine  principle  of  renovation,  and 
a  principle  which  is  destined  finally  to  triumph,  but 
which  has,  meanwhile,  to  maintain  its  ground  by 
perpetual  conflict,  and,  at  times,  to  struggle  even 
for  existence.  While  viewed  collectively,  the 
church  may  be  regarded  in  the  light  of  a  vast  hos- 
pital, filled  with  those  who  are  all,  indeed,  under 
cure,  but  who  have  all  to  complain  of  the  invetera- 
cy of  their  disease,  and  of  the  consequent  slowness 
of  the  healing  process.  It  depends,  therefore,  on 
the  degree  to  which  they  avail  themselves  of  the 
means  of  recovery,  whether  or  not  they  shall  become 
active  and  instrumental  in  the  recovery  of  their 
perishing  fellow-men.  And  the  charge  alleged 
against  them,  is,  that  they  have  not  abandoned 


SUCTION    V.  33 

themselves  to  the  divine  specific,  the  great  remedy 
of  the  Gospel ;  in  consequence  of  which  they  con- 
tinue to  labour  all  their  life-time  under  the  disqua- 
lifying effects  of  their  original  disease,  and  their 
healing  instrumentality  is  entirely  lost  to  the  dif- 
eased  and  dying  world.  Selfishness,  tlie  disease  of 
the  ivorld,  is  the  prevailing  malady  of  the  churcJi. 

It  would  be  easy  and  interesting  to  trace  the  steps 
of  that  awful  transition  by  which  the  church  passed 
from  the  ardour  of  its  first  love,  to  the  cold  selfish- 
ness which  it  afterwards  exhibited.  Viewed  in  its 
primitive  state,  it  appears  a  flaming  sacrifice,  offer- 
ing itself  up  in  the  fires  of  a  self-consuming  zeal 
for  the  salvation  of  the  world.  But  viewed  again 
after  the  lapse  of  a  few  centuries,  how  changed  the 
spectacle  ! — it  is  offering  up  that  very  world  to  its 
own  selfishness  !  Its  own  fires  are  burnt  out ;  and 
it  is  seen  kindling  the  strange  fires  of  another  sacri- 
fice ;  devoting,  and  presenting  the  world  as  a  vic- 
tim at  its  various  shrines  of  wealth,  and  pride,  and 
power.  From  being  an  image  of  the  divine  disin- 
terestedness and  love,  extorting  the  admiration  of 
the  world,  and  winning  men  to  an  imitation  of  its 
benevolence,  it  passed  through  the  various  stages 
of  spiritual  declension,  calculating  consequences, 
Towing  indifferent  to  its  peculiar  duties,  turning 

Mammon. 


34  MAMMON. 

its  influence  into  worldly  channels,  subordinating 
every  thing  sacred  to  worldly  greatness  and  gain, 
till  it  had  become  a  monstrous  personification  of  an 
all-grasping  selfishness,  from  which  the  world  itself 
ffiio-ht  derive  hints  and  lessons  on  the  art  of  self- 

o 

aggrandizement,  but  derive  them  in  vain  for  its 
own  escape. 

Instead,  however,  of  enlarging  on  the  early  ope« 
rations  of  selfishness,  it  will  be  more  relevant  to 
the  design  before  us  to  show  the  fact  and  mode  of  its 
operation  in.  the  church  at  present.  For  long  and 
triumphant  as  its  reign  has  been,  its  days  are  num. 
bered.  The  Gospel  is  not  to  sustain  a  final  defeat. 
The  church  of  Christ  is  yet. to  realize  the  glorious 
intentions  of  its  Heavenly  Founder — to  refill  the 
world  with  love.  Its  failure  hitherto  is  only  to  be 
regarded  in  the  light  of  a  severe,  indeed,  but  tem- 
porary reverse.  Its  final  victory  is  not  contingent. 
The  past  has,  at  least,  demonstrated  its  vitality  ;  the 
present  is  evincing  its  elasticity;  the  future  shall 
bear  witness  to  its  triumphs.  So  that  in  aiming  to 
indicate  the  movements  and  operations  of  its  great 
antagonist,  selfishness,  we  feel  that  we  are  contri- 
buting, in  however  humble  a  degree,  to  retrieve  it» 
lost  honours,  and  to  point  it  the  way  to  victory. 


SECTION    VI.  35 


SECTION  VI. 

The  Forms  of  Selfishness  in  the  Church. 

Of  selfishness  it  maybe  said,  as  of  its  archetype, 
Satan,  that  it  "  takes  all  shapes  that  serve  its  dark 
designs."  One  of  the  most  frequent  forms  in  which 
it  appears  is  that  of  party  spirit ;  and  which,  for 
the  sake  of  distinction,  may  be  denominated  the 
selfishness  of  tlie  sect.  Circumstances,  perhaps,  in- 
evitable to  humanity  in  its  present  probationary 
state,  have  distributed  the  Christian  church  into 
sections ;  but  as  the  points  of  difference,  which  have 
divided  it,  are,  for  tlie  most  part,  of  much  less  impor- 
tance than  the  vital  points  in  which  these  sections 
agree,  there  is  nothing  in  the  nature  of  such  differ- 
ences to  necessitate  more  than  circumstantial  divi- 
sion :  there  is  every  thing  in  their  principles  of  agree- 
ment to  produce  arid  perpetuate  substantial  oneness 
and  cordial  love.  But  this  the  demon  of  selfishness 
forbids.  It  erects  the  points  of  difference  into  tests  of 
piety.  It  resents  any  real  indignity  offered  by  the 
world  to  the  entire  church,  far  less  than  it  resents 
any  supposed  insult  offered  by  other  sections  of  the 


36  MAMMON". 

church  to  its  own  party.  The  general  welfare  is 
nothing  in  its  eye,  co'mpared  with  its  own  particular 
aggrandizement.  When  Christians  should  have  been 
making  common  cause  against  the  world,  selfish- 
ness is  calling  on  its  followers  to  arm,  and,  turning 
each  section  of  the  church  into  a  battlemented  for- 
tress, frowns  defiance  on  all  the  rest.  It  is  blind  to 
the  fact  that  God,  meanwhile,  is  employing  them 
all ;  and  smiling  upon  them  all ;  or,  if  compelled  to 
behold  it,  eyeing  it  askance  with  a  feeling  which 
prevents  it  from  rejoicing  in  their  joy.  When  the 
church  should  have  been  spending  its  energies  for 
the  good  of  man,  devoting  its  passions  like  so  much 
consecrated  fuel,  for  offering  up  the  great  sacrifice 
of  love  wrhich  God  is  waiting  to  receive,  it  is  wast- 
ing its  feelings  in  the  fire  of  unholy  contention  till 
that  fire  has  almost  become  its  native  element.  And 
thus  Christianity  is  made  to  present  to  the  eye  of  an 
indiscriminating  world,  the  unamiable,  and  para- 
doxical spectacle  of  a  system  which  has  the  power  of 
attracting  all  classes  to  itself,  but  of  repelling  them 
all  from  each  other ; — forgetting,  that  in  the  former 
they  see  Christianity  triumphing  over  selfishness, 
and  in  the  latter  selfishness  defeating  Christianity. 
Bigotry,  is  another  of  the  forms  in  which  an  in- 
ordinate self-love  delights — the,  selfishness  of  the 


SECTION    VI.  37 

creed.  In  this  capacity,  as  in  the  former,  its  ele- 
ment is  to  sow  division  where  nothing  should  be 
seen  but  union — among  the  members  of  the  family 
of  Christ.  The  great  scheme  of  mercy  originated 
in  a  love  which  consented  to  overlook  tho  enmity 
and  fierce  rebellion  of  its  objects,  or,  rather,  which 
looked  on  that  enmity  only  to  pity  and  provide  for 
its  removal ;  but  those  who  profess  to  have  been 
the  objects  of  that  love,  will  not  allow  each  other 
the  liberty  of  the  slightest  conscientious  difference, 
without  resenting  that  difference  as  a  personal 
and  meditated  affront ;  as  if  the  natural  enmity  of 
their  hearts  against  Gpd  had  only  changed  its  di- 
rection, and  had  found  its  legitimate  objects  in  his 
people.  Under  a  pretence  of  zeal  for  God,  bigotry 
violates  the  sanctuary  of  conscience,  and  creates  an 
inquisition  in  the  midst  of  the  church.  Erecting 
its  own  creed  into  a  standard  of  universal  belief,  it 
would  fain- call  down  fire  from  heaven,  or  kindle  a 
furnace  seven  times  hotter  than  an  ordinary  anger 
would  demand,  for  all  who  presume  to  question  its 
infallibility : — thus  justifying  the  world  in  repre- 
senting \\\Q>odium  theologicum  as  a  concentration  of 
all  that  is  fierce,  bitter,  and  destructive,  in  the  hu- 
man heart.  The  Lord  they  profess  to  obey,  would 
have  them  to  embrace  with  a  comprehensive  affec- 


38  MAMMON. 

tion  all  who  exhibit  the  least  traces  of  his  image ; 
but  the  strongest  traits,  the  most  marked  conformity 
to  his  likeness,  are  a  very  uncertain  introduction  to 
their  hearts  compared  with  a  likeness  of  creed. 

Nearly  akin  to  this  is,  what,  for  the  sake  of  con- 
venience, may  be  denominated  the  selfishness, of  the 
pulpit :  that  fearful  spirit  which  presumes  to  limit 
what  God  meant  to  be  universal — the  overtures  of 
redemption  to  a  ruined  world.  Selfishness,  indeed, 
in  this  repulsive  form,  is  of  comparatively  limited 
existence;  and,  as  if  by  a  judicial  arrangement  of 
Providence,  it  is  commonly,  in  our  day,  associated 
with  errors  and  tempers  so  unamiable,  that  its  own 
nature  forbids  it  to  become  general.  It  daringly 
undertakes  to  "  number  Israel ;"  to  determine  not 
only  that  few  will  be  saved,  but  who  that  few  will 
be.  Its  ministers,  faithful  to  their  creed,  stand  before 
the  cross,  and  hide  it ;  lest  men  should  see  it  who 
are  not  entitled  or  intended  to  behold  it ; — a  dan- 
ger which  they  jealously  avoid,  a  responsibility  they 
would  tremble  to  incur.  The  Gospel  charters  re- 
demption to  the  world, — but  they  have  heard  that 
there  are  divine  decrees ;  and  until  they  can  logi- 
cally reconcile  their  views  of  the  divine  inflexibility 
with  the  universality  of  the  divine  compassion,  the 
charter  must  stand  over ;  and  souls  perish  unwept ; 


SECTION    VI.  39 

and  the  Gospel  of  Christ,  God's  great  gift,  the  ade- 
quate image  of  the  infinitude  of  his  love,  be  brand- 
ed with  the  stigma  of  exclusiveness.  Put  the  affairs 
of  the  kingdom  of  Christ  into  their  hands, — and, 
under  the  affectation  of  a  pious  dread  of  contra- 
vening the  sovereign  purposes  of  God,  or  of  fore- 
stalling his  appointed  time, — they  would  forthwith 
call  home  the  agents  of  mercy  in  distant  lands, 
break  up  the  institutions,  and  stop  the  whole  ma- 
chinery of  Christian  benevolence.  In  the  midst  of 
a  famishing  world,  they  would  establish  a  monopoly 
of  the  bread  of  life  ;  and  though  assailed  on  all  sides 
by  the  cries  of  a  race  in  the  pains  of  death,  would 
not  cease  to  exchange  smiles  radiant  with  self-com- 
placency while  continuing  to  cater  to  their  own 
pampered  appetites.  "  Lord,  lay  not  this  sin  to 
their  charge."  "  Father,  forgive  them,  for  they  know 
not  what  they  do."  They  know  not  that  they  are 
perverting  that  which  was  meant  to  be  the  destruc- 
tion of  selfishness,  into  its  very  aliment  and  nurse  ; 
they  know  not,  that,  next  to  the  destruction  of  the 
Gospel,  they  could  not  furnish  Satan  with  a  greater 
triumph  than  thus  to  silence  its  inviting  voice,  and 
tc  suppress  the  agencies  of  its  disciples.  It  is  to 
arrest  the  course  of  the  angel  having  the  everlast- 
ing Gospel,  and  flying  through  the  midst  of  heaven, 


40  MAMMON. 

and  to  confine  him  to  their  own  contracted  horizon ; 
to  demonstrate  that  nothing  is  too  monstrous  to  be 
apprehended  from  our  nature  when  its  selfish  ten- 
dencies are  the  materials  employed,  since  it  can 
construct  a  system  out  of  the  Gospel  itself,  whose 
most  appropriate  title  would  be  "  Christianity  made 
selfishness." 

The  selfishness  of  the  pew  is  another  form  of  the 
same  pervading  evil ;  incomparably  less  pernicious, 
indeed,  than  the  last  mentioned,  but  far  more  ex- 
tensive in  its  existence.  This  is  that  modification 
of  selfish  piety  which  lives  only  to  be  personally 
comforted ;  which,  in  all  its  reading  and  hearing, 
makes  its  own  individual  comfort,  not  a  means,  but 
an  end  ;  and  which,  in  pursuit  of  that  end,  goes 
up  and  down  in  the  world,  crying,  "  Give,  give,  and 
is  never  satisfied."  The  Divine  Redeemer  describes 

•r 

the  faithful  shepherd  as  leaving  the  ninety  and  nine 
sheep  for  a  time,  to  traverse  the  wilderness  in  quest 
of  the  one  wanderer.  But  this  unlovely  spirit,  re- 
versing the  touching  picture,  would  have  him  neg- 
lect ninety  and  nine  wanderers  to  attend  exclu- 
sively to  one  folded  sheep.  An  epicure  in  comfort, 
it  is  impatient  if  the  cup  of  consolation  be  removed 
from  its  lips  for  a  moment,  though  that  moment 
was  only  seized  to  say  to  a  famishing  multitude, 


SECTION    VI.  41 

"  Come  now,  for  all  things  are  ready."  Devout 
only  in  little  things,  it  cannot  bear  to  have  its  mind 
diverted  from  its  own  persona.!  and  particular  state, 
even  though  the  si^ht  to  which  its  attention  is  call- 

o  o 

ed,  is  the  wants  of  a  world.  It  will  consent  to  lis 
ten  just  once  a  year  to  the  claims  of  the  perishing 
heathen  ;  but  it  feels  as  if  more  than  that  were  too 
much,  .were  pressing  the  subject  unnecessarily  on 
its  attention.  The  amplitude  of  the  Divine  love 
seeks  to  comprehend  the  universe  in  its  large  and 
life-giving  embrace,  and  calls  on  our  affections  to 
arise  and  follow  it  in  its  vast  diffusion  ;  but  this 
selfishness  stays  at  home,  builds  itself  in,  sees  no 
glory  in  that  love  but  as  it  embraces  a  single  point, 
and  that  point  itself. 

Consistent  with  itself,  this  same  spirit,  if  follow- 
ed from  public  into  private,  is  found  to  become  the 
selfishness  of  the  closet.  It  penetrates  even  to  the 
throne  of  God,  and  there,  where,  if  any  where,  a 
man  should  give  himself  up  to  what  is  godlike, 
there  where  he  should  go  to  engage  an  almighty 
agency  in  the  behalf  of  his  race,  it  banishes  from 
his  thoughts  every  interest  but  his  own,  rendering 
him  a  suppliant  for  himself  alone.  It  makes  him  as 
exclusively  intent  on  his  own  individual  advantage, 
as  if  spiritual,  like  worldly  good,  could  not  bo 


42  MAMMON. 

shared  by  others  without  diminishing  the  portion  to 
be  enjoyed  by  himself. 

Let  us  place  ourselves,  in  imagination,  near  to 
the  throne  of  God — and  what  do  we  behold  1  a 
number  of  needy  suppliants  returning  daily  to  his 
throne,  a  large  proportion  of  whom  are  as  unmind- 
ful of  each  other  as  if  each  came  from  a  different 
world,  and  represented  a  distinct  race  of  beings ; 
as  completely  absorbed  in  their  respective  interests 
as  if  the  welfare  of  the  species  depended  on  their 
individual  success.  There,  where  each  should  think 
of  all,  and  feel  himself  blended  with  the  great 
whole,  he  virtually  disowns  kindred  with  all,  de- 
serts the  common  interest,  and  strives  for  himself 
alone.  They  come  and  lay  their  hand  upon  the 
springs  of  an  agency,  which,  if  put  into  motion, 
would  diffuse  happiness  through  the  world ;  but 
they  leave  that  agency  unsolicited  and  unmoved. 
The  blessed  God  calls  them  into  his  presence, 
partly  that  they  might  catch  the  radiance  of  his 
throne,  and  transmit  it  to  a  world  immersed  in  the 
shadow  of  death  ;  but  provided  they  catch  a  ray  of 
that  light  for  themselves,  the  gloom  of  the  world 
may  remain  unrelieved.  He  points  out  the  infinity 
of  their  resources  in  himself,  gives  them  access  to 
more  than  they  need  for  themselves,  in  order  that 


SECTION    VI.  43 

they  may  go  and  instrumentally  administer  to  the 
wants  of  others.  He  calls  them  to  his  throne  as  a 
royal  priesthood,  as  intercessors  for  the  race ;  but, 
instead  of  imploring  the  Divine  attention  to  the 
wants  of  the  world,  each  of  them  virtually  calls  it 
off  from  every  other  object  to  concentrate  it  upon 
a  unit,  and  that  unit  himself.  He  has  so  laid  his 
vast  and  gracious  plans,  that  he  can  be  enjoyed  fully 
only  in  communion  in  the  great  assembly  of  hea- 
ven ;  but,  in  contravention  of  these  plans,  each  one 
seeks  to  contract  for  himself  separately  with  God, 
as  if  he  would  fain  engross  to  himself  the  whole  of 
the  Divine  goodness.  What  an  affecting  view  is 
this  of  the  power  of  selfishness,  and  of  the  infinite 
patience  of  God  in  bearing  with  it ! 

But  the  form  under  which  this  Protean  evil 
works  more  insidiously  and  extensively,  perhaps, 
than  in  any  which  have  been  specified,  is  that  of  a 
worldly  spirit ;  we  will  venture  to  call  it  the  selfish- 
ness of  the  purse. 

It  was  the  design  of  Christ,  in  redeeming  and 
saving  his  people  by  the  sacrifice  of  himself,  to  con- 
vince them  that  his  interest  and  theirs  were  identi- 
cal, that  he  and  they  were  one,  that  to  enjoy  any 
prosperity  distinct  from  the  prosperity  and  glory  of 
his  kingdom  was  impossible.  And  by  further  pro- 


44  MAMMON. 

posing  to  employ  tlieir  instrumentality  for  the  en- 
largement of  his  kingdom,  he  intended  to  give  them 
an  opportunity  of  evincing  their  love  to  his  name, 
and  of  consecrating  all  the  means  they  could  ab- 
stract from  the  necessary  demands  of  time  to  the 
great  cause  of  salvation.  It  was  only  warrantable 
to  expect,  that  the  exhibition  of  his  love,  and  the 
claims  of  his  kingdom,  coming  with  full  force  upon 
their  hearts,  would  overwhelm  all  worldly  conside- 
rations ;  that  they  would  bring  forth  their  wealth, 
and  present  it  with  the  ardent  devotion  of  an  offer- 
ing ;  that  henceforth  they  would  desire  to  prosper 
in  the  world  only  that  they  might  have  the  more  to 
lay  at  their  feet ;  that  they  would  instantly  devise 
a  plan  of  self-denial,  each  one  for  himself,  the  ob- 
ject of  which  should  be  to  augment  to  the  utmost 
their  contributions  to  his  cause ;  that  nothing  but 
the  fruits  of  such  self-denial  would  be  dignified 
with  the  name  of  Christian  charity ;  and  that  the 
absence  of  such  self-denial,  and  the  consequent 
fruits  of  it,  would  be  regarded  as  a  forfeiture  of 
the  Christian  name  ;  that  the  church,  as  "  the  bride, 
the  Lamb's  wife,"  would  feel  that  she  had,  that  she 
could  have,  no  interest  apart  from  his,  that  all  her 
worldly  possessions  belonged  to  him,  and  that  she 
would  gratefully  and  cheerfully  surrender  them  to 


SECTION    VI.  45 

him,  wishing  that  for  his  dear  sake  they  had  been 
ten  thousand-fold  more. 

To  ask  if  such  is  the  conduct  of  the  Christian 
church  would  be  worse  than  trifling.  u  All  seek 
their  own,  not  the  things  which  are  Jesus  Christ's." 
As  if  their  interest  and  his  were  two,  separate,  op 
posite,  irreconcilable  things ;  or,  as  if  they  had 
never  heard  of  the  grace,  the  claims,  or  even  the 
name  of  Christ,  the  great  majority  of  Christian  pro- 
fessors may  be  seen,  from  age  to  age,  pursuing 
their  own  ends  as  eagerly,  and  wasting  their  sub- 
stance as  selfishly  as  the  world  around  them. 

They  seek  their  worldly  prosperity.  They  know 
of  nothing  equal  to  that.  Every  thing  is  made  to 
give  way  to  that.  The  cause  of  Christ  itself  must 
wait  for  that,  and  is  only  held  secondary  to  it. 
What !  neglect  any  thing  which  tends  to  increase 
their  gains  ! — they  would  deem  themselves  mad  to 
think  of  it,  even  .though  the  salvation  of  an  im- 
mortal soul  had  to  wait  in  consequence.  And  thus, 
while  God  has  to  complain  of  them  as  slothful  and 
unfaithful  in  his  service,  Mammon  can  boast  of 
them  as  among  his  most  diligent  and  devoted 
servants. 

They  seek  their  worldly  ease  and  enjoyment. 
Self,  self  is  the  idol  to  which  they  are  perpetually 


46  MAMMON. 

sacrificing ;  the  monster,  whose  ravenous  appetite 
they  are  perpetually  feasting,  and  which  eats  up 
nearly  all  they  have.  So  great  is  the  cost  of  dress- 
ing and  decorating  this  idol,  of  serving  and  feast- 
ing it,  of  consulting  its  voracious  appetites,  and  min- 
istering to  its  various  gratifications,  that  but  little  is 
left  for  the  cause  of  Christ.  It  is,  in  the  language 
of  Howe,  "  a  soul-wasting  monster,  that  is  fed  and 
sustained  at  a  dearer  rate,  and  with  more  costly  sa- 
crifices and  repasts,  than  can  be  paralleled  by  either 
sacred  or  other  history ;  that  hath  made  more  de- 
solation in  the  souls  of  men,  than  ever  was  made 
in  their  towns  and  cities  where  idols  were  served 
with  only  human  sacrifices,  or  monstrous  creatures 
satiated  only  with  such  food ;  or  where  the  lives 
and  safety  of  the  majority  were  to  be  purchased 
by  the  constant  tribute  of  the  blood  of  not  a  few ! 
that  hath  devoured  more,  and  preyed  more  cruelly 
upon  human  lives,  than  Moloch  or  the  Minotaur  !" 
Self,  is  Dives  in  the  mansion,  clothed  in  purple, 
and  faring  sumptuously  every  day — the  cause  of 
Christ  is  Lazarus  lying  at  his  gate,  and  fed  only 
with  the  crumbs  which  fall  from  his  table. 

These  are  some  of  the  leading  forms  of  that  de- 
mon of  selfishness,  whose  name  is  Legion  ;  and 
which,  in  every  age,  has  been  the  great  antagonist 


SECTION    VI.  47 

of  the  Gospel,  threatening,  at  times,  even  to  drive 
the  principle  of  benevolence  from  the  world.  What 
but  this  is  it  which  keeps  the  piety  of  the  indivi- 
dual professor  joyless  to  himself]  which  renders 
many  a  congregation  of  professing  Christians  a 
company  of  inactive,  useless  men,  assembling 
merely  for  their  own  religious  ends,  and  separat- 
ing only  to  pursue  their  own  worldly  ends,  as  re- 
gardless of  the  welfare  of  others  as  if  none  but 
themselves  inhabited  the  earth  1  which  turns  the 
several  denominations  of  which  the  Christian  church 
is  composed,  into  so  many  sources  of  mutual  dis- 
quietude and  weakness  1  and  which  makes  that 
church  the  scorn  of  an  infidel  world,  instead  of  its 
boast  and  glory  ]  It  has  defrauded  millions  of  the 
offer  of  eternal  life  ;  and  what  but  selfishness  is,  at 
this  moment,  defrauding  God  of  his  glory  long 
since  due  1  and  the  church  of  its  promised  pros- 
perity t  and  the  world  of  the  redemption  provided 
for  it  ]  Well  has  self  been  denominated  the  great 
Antichrist ;  for,  though  it  may  not  be  the  Antichrist 
of  prophecy,  which  is  to  appear  in  the  latter  day, 
it  is  the  Antichrist  of  every  day  and  every  age  ;  the 
great  usurper  of  the  rights  of  Christ,  the  great  an- 
tagonist and  obstacle  to  his  universal  reign.  "  For 


48  MAMMON. 

all  seek  their  own,  not  the  things  which  are  Jesus 
Christ's." 

That  we  do  not  exaggerate  its  pernicious  power, 
let  it  only  be  supposed  that  selfishness,  in  all  the 
forms  we  have  specified,  has  been  banished  from 
the  church,  and  what  would  ensue  1  Each  denomi- 
nation of  Christians,  without  sacrificing  its  distinct- 
ive character,  would  embrace  and  seek  to  ally  itself 
as  closely  with  all  the  rest,  as  a  community  of  in- 
terest, hope,  and  'affection  could  bind  it.  Each 
creed  would  have  the  necessity  and  divinity  of 
brotherly  love  among  its  primary  articles,  teaching 
the  Christian,  that  a  heart  glowing  with  affection  to 
"  the  brethren,"  exhales  the  incense  most  accepta- 
ble to  God  ;  that  such  love  is  God  in  man.  Devo- 
tion, no  longer  terminating  in  itself,  would  go  to 
God,  and  plead  for  the  world.  Piety,  no  longer 
seeking  after  comfort,  as  an  end,  would  find  it 
without  seeking ;  find  it  in  the  paths  of  Christian 
activity  and  usefulness.  Like  the  piety  of  aposto- 
lic times,  it  would  be  exempted  from  all  the  morbid 
complaints  of  a  slothful  religion,  and  would  find  its 
health  and  enjoyment  in  living  to  Christ.  The 
whole  church  would  be  kindled  into  a  sacrificial 
flame  for  his  glory,  into  which  every  Christian 
would  cast  the  savings  of  his  self-denial  as  appro- 


SECTION    VI. 


priate  fuel  for  feeding  a  flame  so  sac 
which  would  yearn  over  the  whole  human  race  ;  a 
ze-al  which  would  be  constantly  devising  fresh  me- 
thods of  usefulness,  denying  itself,  and  laying  it- 
self out  for  God  j  and  a  perseverance  which  would 
never  rest  till  the  whole  family  of  man  should  be 
seated  at  the  banquet  of  salvation  ;  these  would  be 
the  prevailing  features  of  the  entire  Christian  com- 
munity. From  such  a  scene  the  Eternal  Spirit  could 
not  be  absent ;  its  very  existence  would  demon- 
strate his  presence.  The  tabernacle  of  God  would 
be  with  men  upon  the  earth.  God  would  bless  us, 
and  all  the  ends  of  the  earth  would  fear  him. 

Now  of  all  this  selfishness  is  defrauding  us.  It 
is  keeping  the  universe  in  suspense.  Like  a  spring 
season  held  back  by  the  chilling  breath  of  winter, 
all  things  are  waiting  for  the  desired  change ;  when 
the  Christian  church,  bursting  forth  as  in  the  vernal 
beauty  of  its  youth,  shall  become  another  Paradise, 
full  of  melody,  incense,  and  joy. 


BIujii  nion. 


PART    THE    SECOND. 

Covetousness, — the  principal  form  of  Selfishness,— In 
Its  nature,  forms,  prevalence  especially  in  Britain, 
disguises,  tests,  evils,  doom,  and  pleas. 


SECTION  I. 


The  nature  of  Covetousness. 

If  selfishness  be  the  prevailing  form  of  sin,  co- 
vetousness  may  be  regarded  as  the  prevailing  form 
of  selfishness.  This  is  strikingly  intimated  by  the 
apostle  Paul,  when,  describing  the  "perilous  time's" 
of  the  final  apostasy,  he  represents  selfishness  as 
the  prolific  root  of  all  the  evils  which  will  then  pre 
vail,  and  covetousness  as  its  first  fruit.  IC  For  men 
shall  be  lovers  of  their  own  selves,  covetous." 

In  passing,  therefore,  from  the  preceding  outline 
of  selfishness  in  general,  to  a  consideration  of  this 
form  of  it  in  particular,  we  feel  that  we  need  not 
labour  to  magnify  its  importance.  A  very  little  re- 
flection will  suffice  to  show  that,  while  the  other 
f  jrms  of  selfishness  are  partial  in  their  existence, 
this  is  universal ;  that  it  lies  in  our  daily  path,  and 
surrounds  us  like  the  atmosphere ;  that  it  exceeds 
all  others  in  the  plausibility  of  its  pretences,  and 
the  insidiousness  of  its  operations ;  that  it  is,  com- 
monly, the  last  form  of  selfishness  which  leaves  the 
heart ;  and  that  Christians,  who  have  comparatively 


54  MAMMON. 

escaped  from  all  the  others,  may  still  be  uncon- 
sciously enslaved  by  thisr, ...  Jf  there  be  ground  to 
fear  that  covetousness  "  will,  in  all  probability, 
prove  the  eternal  overthrow  of  more  characters 
among  professing  people,  than  any  other  sin,  be- 
cause it  is  almost  the  only  crime  which  can  be  in- 
dulged, and  a  profession  of  religion  at  the  same 
time  supported  ;"•  and  if  it  be  true  also,  that  it  ope- 
rates more  than  any  other  sin  to  hold  the  church  in 
apparent  league  with  the  world,  and  to  defeat  its 
design,  and  rob  it  of  its  honours,  as  the  instrument 
of  the  world's  conversion,  surely  nothing  more  can 
be  necessary  to  reveal  the  appalling  magnitude  of 
the  evil,  and  to  justify  every  attempt  that  may  be 
made  to  sound  an  alarm  against  it. 

Covetousness  denotes  the  state  of  a  mind  from 
which  the  Supreme  Good  has  been  lost,  labouring 
to  replace  him  by  some  subordinate  form  of  en- 
joyment. The  determinate  direction  which  this 
craving  takes  after  money,  is  purely  accidental,  and 
arises  from  the  general  consent  of  society,  that 
money  shall  be  the  representative  of  all  property, 
and,  as  such,  the  key  to  all  the  avenues  of  worldly 
enjoyment.  But  as  the  existence  of  this  conven 
tional  arrangement  renders  the  possession  of  some 
amount  of  property  indispensable,  the  application 


SECTION    I.  55 

of  the  term  c&vctousness  has  come  to  be  confined  al- 
most exclusively  to  an  inordinate  and  selfish  regard 
for  money. 

Our  liability  to  this  sin  arises,  we  say,  from  the  * 
perception  that  "money  answereth  all  things." 
Riches  in  themselves,  indeed,  are  110  evil.  Nor  is 
the  bare  possession  of  them  wrong.  Nor  is  the  de- 
sire to  possess  them  sinful,  provided  that  desire  ex- 
ist under  certain  restrictions.  For  in  almost  every 
stage  of  civilization  money  is  requisite  to  procure 
the  conveniences,  and  even  the  necessaries  of  life  ; 
to  desire  it  therefore  as  the  means  of  life,  is  as 
innocent  as  to  live.  In  its  higher  application  it  may 
be  jnade  the  instrument  of  great  relative  useful- 
ness ;  to  seek  it,  then,  as  the  means  of  doing  good, 
is  not  a  vice,  but  a  virtue.  But,  perceiving  that 
money  is  so  important  an  agent  in  society — that  it 
not  only  fences  off  the  wants  and  woes  of  poverty, 
but  that,  like  a  centre  of  attraction,  it  can  draw  to 
itself  every  object  of  worldly  desire  from  the  far- 
thest circumference  ;  the  temptation  arises  of  de- 
siring it  inordinately ;  of  even  desiring  it  for  its 
own  sake ;  of  supposing  that  the  instrument  of 
procuring  so  much  good  must  itself  possess  intrin- 
sic excellence.  From  observing  that  gold  could 
procure  for  us  whatever  it  touches,  we  are  tempted 


56  MAMMON. 

to  wish,  like  the  fabled  king,  that  whatever  w«3 
touch  might  be  turned  into  gold. 

But  the  passion  for  money  exists  in  various  de 
grees,  and  exhibits  itself  in  very  different  aspects 
No  classification  of  its  multiplied  forms,  indeed, 
can,  from  the  nature  of  things,  be  rigorously  exact. 
All  its  branches  and  modifications  run  into  each 
other,  and  are  separated  by  gradations  rather  than 
by  lines  of  demarcation.  The  most  obvious  and 
general  distinction,  perhaps,  is  that  which  divides 
it  into  the  desire  of  getting  as  contradistinguished 
from  the  desire  of  keeping  that  which  is  already 
possessed.  But  each  of  these  divisions  is  capable 
of  subdivision.  Worldliness,  rapacity,  and  an  ever- 
craving,  all-consuming  prodigality,  may  belong  to 
the  one,  and  parsimony,  niggardliness,  and  avarice 
to  the  other.  The  word  covctousness,  however,  is 
popularly  employed  as  synonymous  with  each  of 
these  terms,  and  as  comprehensive  of  th  >m  all. 


SECTION    II.  67 


SECTION  II. 


Forms  of  Covelousness* 

By  uwldliness,  we  mean  cupidity  in  its  earliest, 
most  plausible,  and  most  prevailing  form  *  not  yet 
sufficiently  developed  to  be  conspicuous  to  the  eye 
of  man,  yet  sufficiently  characteristic  and  active  to 
incur  the  prohibition  of  God.  It  is  that  quiet  and 
ordinary  operation  of  the  principle  which  abounds 
most  with  excuses ;  which  is  seldom  questioned 
even  by  the  majority  of  professing  Christians ; 
which  the  morality  of  the  world  allows  and  even 
commends ;  which  may  live,  unrebuked,  through  a 
whole  life,  under  the  decent  garb  of  frugality  and 
honest  industry ;  and  which  thus  silently  works  the 
destruction  of  multitudes  without  alarming  them. 

Rapacity,  is  covetousness  grasping ;  "  making 
haste  to  be  rich."  This  is  the  true  "wolf  in  Che 
breast,"  ever  feeding,  and  yet  ever  craving  ;  so  rave- 
nous that  nothing  is  like  it  except  death  and  the 
grave.  It  is  a  passion  that  compels  every  other 
feeling  to  its  aid  ;  the  day  seems  too  short  for  it ; 
success  is  looked  on  as  a  reward  and  a  spur ;  fail- 


38  MAMMON, 

ure,  as  a  punishment  for  some  relaxation  of  the 
passion ;  the  wealth  of  others  seems  to  reproach 
it ;  the  poverty  of  others  to  warn  it.  Determined 
to  gratify  itself,  it  overlooks  the  morality  of  the 
means,  despises  alike  the  tardiness  of  industry, 
and  the  scruples  of  integrity,  and  thinks  only  of 
the  readiest  way  to  success.  Impatient  of  delay,  it 
scorns  to  wait  for  intimations  of  the  divine  will,  or 
to  watch  the  movements  of  Providence ;  and  the  only 
restraints  which  it  acknowledges — though  many  of 
these  it  would  gladly  overleap — are  such  as  our 
fears  of  each  other  have  erected  into  laws,  for  the 
express  purpose  of  confining  it  within  bounds. 

Parsimony,  is  covetousness  parting  with  its  lifu- 
bloockr~~$£ia  fne  frugality  of  selfishness  ;  the  art  of 
parting  with  as  little  as  possible.  Of  this  disposi- 
tion it  can  never  be  said  that  it  gives,  but  only  that 
it  capitulates  ;  its  freest  bestowments  have  the  air 
of  a  surrender  made  with  an  ill  grace. 

Avarice,  is  covetousness  hoarding.    It  is  the  love 

V 

of 'money  in  the  abstract,  or,  for  its  own  sake./ 
Covetousness,  in  this  monstrous  form,  indeed,  is 
but  of  rare  occurrence.  For  as  money  is  a  com- 
pendium of  all  kinds  of  worldly  good,  or  so  much 
condensed  world,  it  is  mostly  desired  for  the  sake 
of  the  gratifications  which  it  can  purchase  ;  it  is 


SECTION    II.  59 

sought  and  valued  as  a  kind  of  concentrated  essence 
which  can  be  diluted  at  pleasure,  and  adapted  to 
the  taste  of  every  one  who  possesses  it.  But  ava- 
rice is  content  with  the  bare  possession  of  the 
essence ;  stopping  short  at  the  means,  it  is  satisfied 
without  the  end.  By  a  strange  infatuation  it  looks 
upon  gold  as  its  own  end  ;  and,  as  the  ornaments 
which  the  Israelites  transferred  into  the  hands  of 
Aaron  became  a  god,  so  gold,  in  the  hand  of  ava- 
rice, becomes  an  ultimate  good :  to  speak  of  its 
utility,  or  its  application  to  practical  purposes, 
would  be  almost  felt  as  a  profanation.  Other  vices 
have  a  particular  view  to  enjoyment,  (falsely  so 
called,)  but  the  very  term  miser,  is  a  confession  of 
the  misery  which  attends  avarice ;  for,  in  order  to 
save  his  gold,  the  miser  robs  himself; 

"  Throws  up  his  interest  in  both  worlds : 

*'  First  starved  in  this,  then  damned  in  that  to  come.M 

He  cannot  be  said  to  possess  wealth  ;  wealth  pos- 
sesses him ;  or  else  he  possesses  it  like  a  fever 
which  burns  and  consumes  him  as  if  molten  gold 
were  circulating  in  his  veins.  Many  vices  wear 
out  and  are  abandoned  as  age  and  experience  in- 
crease, but  avarice  strikes  deeper  root  as  age  ad- 
vances ;  and,  like  the  solitary  tree  of  the  desert, 


60  MAMMON. 

flourishes  amidst  sterility  where  nothing  else  could 
survive.  Other  passions  are  paroxysms,  and  inter* 
mit;  but  avarice  is  a  distemper  which  knows  no 
intervals.  Other  passions  have  their  times  of  relax- 
ation, but  avarice  is  a  tyrant  which  never  suffers  its 
slaves  to  rest.  It  is  the  fabled  dragon  with  its  gol- 
den fleece,  and  with  lidless  and  unslumbering  eyes 
keeps  watch  and  ward  night  and  day. 

Prodigality,  though  directly  opposed  to  avarice 
or  hoarding,  is  quite  compatible  with  cupidity ;  and 
is,  indeed,  so  frequently  found  in  combination  with 
it,  that  it  may  be  regarded  as  one  of  its  complex 
forms.  The  character  which  Sallust  gives  of  Cati- 
line, that  "  he  was  covetous  of  other  men's  wealth, 
while  he  squandered  his  own,"  is  one  of  very  com- 
mon occurrence.  And  we  notice  it  here  to  show,  that 
although  men  may  occasionally  be  heard  pleading 
their  extravagance  to  clear  themselves  from  the 
charge  of  cupidity,  it  yet  originates  in  the  same 
cause,  produces  precisely  the  same  effects,  employs 
the  same  sinful  means  of  gratification,  and  incurs 
the  same  doom.  [They  must  be  covetous,  that  they 
may  be  prodigal?  one  hand  must  collect,  th?t  the 
other  may  have  wherewith  to  scatter :  covetous- 
ness,  as  the  steward  to  prodigality,  must  furnish 
supplies,  and  is  often  goaded  into  rapacity  that  it 


SECTIOiN    III.  61 

may  raise  them.  Thus  prodigality  strengthens  cov- 
etousness  by  keeping  it  in  constant  activity,  and 
covetousness  strengthens  prodigality  by  slavishly 
feeding  its  voracious  appetite.  Taking  possession 
of  the  heart,  "  they  divide  the  man  between  them," 
each  in  turn  becoming  cause  and  effect.  But  prodi- 
gal self-indulgence  not  only  produces  cupidity,  it 
stands  to  every  benevolent  object  in  the  same  re- 
lation as  avarice — it  has  nothing  to  give.  A  sys- 
tem of  extravagant  expenditure  renders  benevo- 
lence impossible,  and  keeps  a  man  constantly  poor 
towards  God. 


SECTION  III. 

Prevalence  of  Covelousness. 

To  the  charge  of  covetousness,  under  one  or  other 
of  these  various  forms,  how  large  a  proportion  of 
mankind,  and  even  of  professing  Christians,  must 
plead  guilty  !  It  is  true,  indeed,  that  all  these  mo- 
difications of  covetousness  cannot  co-exist  in  the 
same  mind,  for  some  of  them  are  destructive  of 
each  other ;  and  such  is  the  anxiety  of  men  to  es- 


62  MAMMON. 

cape  from  the  hateful  charge  entirely,  that,  find- 
ing they  are  exempt  from  some  of  its  forms,  they 
flatter  themselves  that  they  are  guiltless  of  all.  But 
this  delusion,  in  most  cases,  only  indicates  the 
mournful  probability,  that  the  evil,  besides  having 
taken  up  its  abode  within  them,  has  assumed  there 
a  form  and  a  name  so  plausible  as  not  merely  to 
escape  detection,  but  even  to  secure  to  itself  the 
credit  of  a  virtue,  and  the  welcome  of  a  friend. 

In  the  eyes  of  the  world  a  man  may  acquire,  and 
through  a  long  life  maintain,  a  character  for  libe- 
rality and  spirit,  while  his  heart  all  the  time  goeth 
after  his  covetousness.  His  hand,  like  a  channel, 
may  be  ever  open  ;  and  because  his  income  is  per- 
petually flowing  through  it,  the  unreflecting  world, 
taken  with  appearances,  hold  him  up  as  a  pattern 
of  generosity ;  but  the  entire  current  is  absorbed 
by  his  own  selfishness;  that  others  are  indirectly be- 
nefitted  by  his  profusion,  does  not  enter  into  his 
calculations  ;  he  thinks  only  of  his  own  gratification. 
It  is  true,  his  mode  of  living  may  employ  others ; 
but  he  is  the  idol  of  the  temple — they  are  only 
priests  in  his  service ;  and  the  prodigality  they  are 
empowered  to  indulge  in,  is  only  intended  to  deco- 
rate and  do  honour  to  his  altar.  To  maintain  an  ex- 
tensive establishment,  to  carry  it  high  before  the 


SECTION    III.  63 

world,  to  settle  his  children  respectably  in  life,  to 
maintain  a  system  of  costly  self-indulgence  ;  these 
are  the  objects  which  swallow  up  all  his  gains,  and 
keep  him  in  a  constant  fever  of  ill-concealed  anx- 
iety ;  filling  his  heart  with  envy  and  covetousness 
at  the  sight  of  others'  prosperity ;  rendering  him 
loath  to  part  with  a  fraction  of  his  property  to  be- 
nevolent purposes ;  making  him  feel  as  if  every  far 
thing  of  his  money  so  employed  were  ar  diversion 
of  that  farthing  from  the  great  ends  of  life;  and 
causing  him  even  to  begrudge  the  hallowed  hours 
of  the  Sabbath  as  so  much  time  lost  (if,  indeed,  he 
allows  it  to  be  lost)  to  the  cause  of  gain.  New 
channels  of  benevolence  may  open  around  him  in 
all  directions  ;  but  as  far  as  he  is  concerned,  those 
channels  must  remain  dry,  for,  like  the  sands  of  the 
desert,  he  absorbs  all  the  bounty  which  heaven 
rains  on  him,  and  still  craves  for  more.  What  but 
this  is  commonly  meant  by  the  expression  concern- 
ing such  a  man,  that  f<  he  is  living  up  to  his  in- 
come?" The  undisguised  interpretation  is,  that 
he  is  engrossing  to  himself  all  that  benevolence 
which  should  be  diffused  throughout  the  world ; 
that  he  is  appropriating  all  that  portion  of  the  di- 
vine bounty  with  which  he  has  been  intrusted,  and 
which  he  ought  to  share.with  the  rest  of  mankind  ; 


64  MAMMON. 

and  that  he  is  thus  disabling  himself  for  all  the  calls 
and  claims  of  Christian  charity.  Alas  !  that  so  large 
a  proportion  of  professing  Christians  should  be,  at 
this  moment,  systematically  incapacitating  them- 
selves for  any  thing  more  than  scanty  gifts  of 
charity,  by  their  unnecessar^  expenditure,  their  ex- 
travagant self-indulgence.  Where  avarice  or  hoard- 
ing has  slain  its  thousands,  a  lavish  profusion  has 
slain  its  tens  of  thousands  ;  and  where  the  former 
robs  the  cause  of  God  of  a  mite,  the  latter  robs  it 
of  a  million. 

A  man  may  defy  a  charge  of  avarice,  in  the  ag- 
gravated sense  of  that  term,  to  be  substantiated 
against  him.  Indeed,  a  miser,  in  the  sense  in 
which  the  character  is  ordinarily  portrayed,  is  a 
most  unusual  prodigy ;  a  monster  rarely  found  but 
in  description.  "  His  life  is  one  long  sigh  for 
wealth  ;  he  would  coin  his  life-blood  into  gold  ;  he 
would  sell  his  soul  for  gain."  Now,  the  injurious 
effect  of  such  exaggerated  representations  is,  that 
men,  conscious  that  their  parsimony  does  not  re- 
semble such  a  character,  acquit  themselves  of  the 
charge  of  covetousness  altogether.  Unable  to  re- 
cognize in  this  disguised  and  distorted  picture  of 
vice  their  own  likeness,  they  flatter  themselves  into 
a  belief  of  their  entire  innocence  ;  as  if  the  vice  ad- 


SECTION    III.  65 

mitted  of  no  degrees,  and  none  were  guilty  if  not 
as  guilty  as  possible. 

But,  though  a  man  may  not  merit  to  be  denomi- 
nated avaricious,  he  may  yet  be  parsimonious.  He 
may  not  be  a  Dead  Sea,  ever  receiving  and  never 
imparting;  but  yet  he  may  be  as  unlike  the  Nile 
when,  overflowing  its  banks,  it  leaves  a  rich  deposit 
on  the  neighbouring  lands.  His  domestic  economy  is 
a  system  of  penuriousness,  hateful  to  servants,  visit- 
ors, and  friends  ;  from  which  every  thing  generous 
has  fled ;  and  in  which  even  every  thing  necessary 
comes  with  the  air  of  being  begrudged,  of  existing 
only  by  sufferance.  In  his  dealing  with  others,  he 
Bcems  to  act  under  the  impression  that  mankind  have 
conspired  to  defraud  him,  and  the  consequence  is 
that  his  conduct  often  amounts  to  a  constructive 
fraud  on  mankind.  He  is  delighted  at  the  idea  of 
saving;  and  exults  at  the  acquisition  of  a  little  pelf 
with  a  joy  strikingly  disproportionate  to  its  worth. 
He  looks  on  every  thing  given  to  charity,  as  so  much 
lost,  thrown  away,  and  for  which  there  will  never 
be  any  return.  If  a  benevolent  appeal  surprise 
him  into  an  act  of  unusual  liberality,  he  takes  am- 
ple revenge  by  keen  self-reproaches,  and  a  deter- 
mination to  steel  himself  against  all  such  assaults 

in  future.    Or  else,  in  his  relenting  moments,  and 
Mammon  5 


66  MAMMON, 

happier  moods,  he  plumes  himself,  and  looks  as 
complacently  on  himself  for  having  bestowed  a 
benevolent  mite,  as  if  he  had  performed  an  act  of 
piety  for  which  nothing  less  than  heaven  would  be 
an  adequate  reward.  His  soul  not  only  never  ex 
pands  to  the  warmth  of  benevolence,  but  contracts 
at  the  bare  proposal,  the  most  distant  prospect  of 
sacrifice.  His  presence  in  any  society  met  for  a 
charitable  purpose  would  be  felt  like  the  vicinity 
of  an  iceberg,  freezing  the  atmosphere,  and  repress 
ing  the  warm  and  flowing  current  of  benevolence 
The  eloquent  think  it  a  triumph  to  have  pleaded 
the  cause  of  mercy  before  him  unabashed;  and 
the  benevolent  are  satisfied  if  they  can  only  bring 
away  their  sacred  fire  undamped  from  his  presence. 
He  scowls  at  every  benevolent  project  as  romantic, 
as  suited  to  the  meridian  of  Utopia,  to  a  very  dif- 
ferent state  of  things  from  what  is  known  in  this 
world.  He  hears  of  the  time  when  the  church  wiU 
make,  and  will  be  necessitated  to  make,  far  greater 
sacrifices  than  at  present,  with  conscious  uneasiness 
or  resolved  incredulity.  His  life  is  an  economy  of 
petty  avarice,  constructed  on  the  principle  of  part- 
ing with  as  little  as  possible,  and  getting  as  much, — 
a  constant  warfare  against  benevolence. 

But  a  person  may  be  free  from  the  charge  of  par- 


SECTION    III.  €7 

simony,  and  yet  open  to  the  accasation  of  world- 
liness.  His  covetousness  may  not  be  so  determined 
as  to  distinguish  him  from  the  multitude,  but  yet 
sufficiently  marked  to  show  that  his  treasure  is  not 
in  heaven.  He  was  born  with  the  world  in  his 
heart,  and  nothing  has  yet  expelled  it.  He  may 
regularly  hear  the  sound  of  the  Gospel,  but  the 
mind  is  pre-occupied  ;  ' c  the  cares  of  this  world,  and 
the  deceitfulness  of  riches,  choke  the  word,  and 
render  it  unfruitful."  He  will  listen  to  an  or- 
dinary exposition  of  the  vanity  of  wealth  as  a  mat- 
ter of  course,  and  wrill  appear  to  give  it  his  entire 
assent ;  and  yet,  immediately  after,  he  resumes  his 
pursuit  of  that  vanity  with  an  avidity  which  seems 
increased  by  the  temporary  interruption.  But  let 
the  exposition  be  more  than  usually  vivid,  let  it  aim 
at  awakening  his  conviction  of  the  dangers  attend- 
ing wealth,  let  it  set  forth  the  general  preferable- 
ness  of  competence  to  affluence,  and  it  will  be 
found  to  be  disturbing  the  settled  order  of  his  sen- 
timents. A  representation  of  the  snares  of  wealth, 
is  regarded  by  him  as  the  empty  declamation  of 
a  man  who  has  been  splenetic  by  disappointments, 
or  who  has  been  soured  by  losses  ;  who  has  never 
known  the  sweets  of  wealth,  or,  having  known,  has 
lost  them,  and  would  gladly  recover  them  again  if 


68  MAMMON. 

he  could.  He  never  listens  to  such  representations 
as — that  unsanctified  riches  are  only  the  means  of 
purchasing  disappointment ;  that  the  possessor  suf- 
fers rather  than  enjoys  them ;  that  his  wants  mul* 
tiply  faster  than  his  means — without  an  inward 
smile  of  scepticism,  a  conscious  feeling  of  incre- 
dulity ;  a  feeling  which,  if  put  into  words,  would 
express  itself  thus :  "  O,  if  I  might  be  but  made 
rich,  I  would  make  myself  happy.  Tell  me  not  of 
danger  :  cheerfully  would  I  risk  them  all,  only  bless 
me  with  wealth."  And  his  life  is  arranged,  and 
spent,  in  strict  accordance  with  this  confession.  In 
his  vocabulary,  wealth  means  happiness — the  chief 
good.  And  in  his  reading  of  the  holy  Scripture,  the 
declaration  of  our  Lord  is  reversed,  as  if  he  had 
said— A  man's  life  consisteth  in  the  abundance  of 
the  things  which  he  possesseth. 

And  this  representation,  be  it  observed,  applies 
to  the  man  whose  i^eas  of  wealth  are  limited  to  a 
few  hundreds,  as  much  as  to  him  whose  wishes  as- 
pire to  hundreds  of  thousands.  The  poor  man  is 
apt  to  imagine  that  covetousness  is  a  subject  in 
which  he  has  no  interest — that  it  is  a  sin  peculiar 
to  the  rich.  It  is  true,  indeed,  that  he  may  not 
plan  for  riches,  because  he  may  not  be  able  to  plan 
much  for  any  thing ;  calculation  is  out  of  his  sphere 


SECTION    III.  69 

—  it  requires  too  much  thought  for  him.  And  it  is  true 
also,  that  the  prosperous  are  more  liable  to  indulge 
cupidity  than  the  poor  ;  for  if  it  cannot  be  said  with 
confidence  that  poverty  starves  the  propensity,  it 
may  certainly  be  affirmed  that  prosperity  feeds  it  •, 
:>ften  awakening  it  at  first  from  its  dormant  state, 
and  turning  every  subsequent  instance  of  gain  into 
a  meal  to  gratify  its  voracious  appetite. 

But  there  is  no  sphere  so  humble  and  contracted 
as  to  secure  a  man  against  its  intrusion.  Like  a 
certain  class  of  plants,  it  seems  only  to  ask  for 
room,  though  it  should  be  on  a  rock,  and  for  the 
common  air,  in  order  to  thrive.  The  man  who  flat- 
ters himself  that  he  has  "  retired  from  the  world," 
may  still  be  carrying  this  abridgment  of  the  world's 
influences  about  with  him  in  his  heart.  And,  by 
artfully  soliciting  the  poor  man  under  the  disguise 
of  industry,  of  frugality,  or  of  providing  for  his 
family,  it  may  have  yoked  him  as  a  captive  to  its 
car,  though  he  may  appear  to  be  only  keeping  pov- 
erty at  bay.  He  need  not  plunge  into  the  ocean  in 
order  to  drown  himself — a  very  shallow  stream  will 
suffice,  if  he  chooses  to  lie  prostrate  in  it ;  and  the 
desire  of  the  smallest  gain,  if  his  heart  be  im- 
mersed in  pursuit,  will  as  certainly  "  drown  him  iii 
perdition,"  as  if  the  object  of  his  cupidity  were  the 


70  MAMMON. 

wealth  of  a  Croesus.  He  takes  his  character,  and 
incurs  his  danger,  not  from  the  magnitude  of  his 
object,  but  from  the  unceasing  and  undivided  man 
ner  in  which  he  pursues  it.  Though  his  worldliness 
may  be  quiet  and  equable  in  its  operation,  yet,  like 
-  an  ever-flowing  stream,  it  gradually  wears  his  whole 
soul  into  one  channel,  which  drains  off  his  thoughts 
and  affections  from  higher  ground,  and  carries  them 
all  in  a  steady  current  in  that  single  direction  ; 
while  his  occasional  impressions  of  a  religious  na- 
ture only  ripple  its  surface  for  a  moment,  and  van- 
ish, without  in  the  least  retarding  its  onward  course. 
But  to  specify  all  the  forms  of  covetousness,  and 
to  trace  it  in  all  its  modifications,  is  impossible. 
Capable  of  combining  with  all  motives,  and  pene- 
trating all  actions,  in  its  symptoms  or  its  practice  it 
is  every  where  to  be  found.  It  acknowledges  no 
conqueror  but  the  grace  of  G  od,  and  owns  no  limit 
but  that  of  the  world.  Our  great  epic  poet,  with 
equal  sublimity  and  propriety,  gives  to  it  an  exis- 
tence even  beyond  this  world.  Recording  the  his- 
tory of  Mammon — the  Scripture  personification  of 
cupidity — he  describes  him  as 

"  the  least  erected  spirit  that  fell 

"  From  heaven  :  for  even  in  heaven  his  looks  and  thoughts 
•'  Were  always  downward  bent ;  admiring  more 


SECTION    III.  71 

"  The  riches  of  heaven's  pavement,  trodden  gold, 
"  Than  aught  divine  or  holy  else,  enjoyed 
"  In  vision  beatific." 

The  moral  of  which  is,  that  covetousness  is  one  of 
the  eldest  born  of  sin,  and  a  prime  leader  in  the 
satanic  empire  of  evil;  that  no  nature  is  too  lofty, 
no  place  too  sacred  for  its  presence ;  that,  being  a 
universal  passion,  no  enterprise  is  too  daring  for  it 
to  attempt,  no  sphere  too  extended  for  its  range. 

One  of  the  great  objects  of  the  personal  minis- 
try of  our  Lord  himself,  appears  to  have  been  to 
make  us  aware  of  the  universality  of  this  passion, 
and  to  save  us  from  it.  Sin  having  expelled  the 
love  of  God  from  the  heart,  he  saw  that  the  love  of 
the  world  had  rushed  in  to  fill  up  the  vacuum  ;  that 
the  desire  of  riches,  as  an  abstract  of  all  other 
worldly  desires,  has  become  a  universal  passion,  in 
which  all  other  appetites  and  passions  concur,  since 
it  is  the  readiest  means  to  gratify  them  all.  To  the 
eye  of  an  ordinary  observer,  the  generation  of  that 
day  appeared  to  be  only  laudably  employed  in  their 
respective  avocations ;  but,  penetrating  the  thin 
disguises  of  custom,  he  beheld  the  world  converted 
into  a  mart  in  which  every  thing  was  exposed  for 
sale.  To  a  common  observer,  the  confused  pur- 
suits and  complicated  passions  of  mankind  might 


72  MAMMON. 

have  presented  an  aspect  of  ever-shifting  forms,  as 
incapable  of  classification  as  the  waves  of  the  sea ; 
but  to  his  comprehensive  view  there  appeared  but 
two  great  classes,  in  which  all  minor  distinctions 
were  merged — the  servants  of  God  and  tho  ?ei- 
vants  of  Mammon.  To  his  unerring  and  omniscient 
glance,  the  whole  world  appeared  to  be  engrossed 
in  a  laborious  experiment  to  effect  a  compromise 
between  these  two  claimants ;  but  against  such  an 
accommodation  he  enters  his  Divine  protest ;  af- 
firming, with  the  solemnity  and  confidence  of  one 
who  knew  that,  though  the  experiment  had  been 
made  and  repeated  in  every  form  and  in  every  age, 
it  had  failed  as  often  as  it  had  been  made,  and  will 
prove  eternally  impracticable,  "  Ye  cannot  serve 
God  and  Mammon."  To  an  ordinary  observer, 
the  charge  of  covetousness  could  only  be  alleged 
against  a  few  individuals  ;  but  he  tracked  it  through 
the  most  unsuspected  windings,  laid  open  some  of 
its  most  concealed  operations,  and  showed  that, 
like  the  elemental  fire,  it  is  not  only  present  where 
it  is  grossly  visible,  but  that  it  is  all-pervading  and 
co-extensive  with  human  depravity. 

Entering  the  mart  of  the  busy  world,  where  no- 
thing is  heard  but  the  monotonous  hum  of  the  tra- 
ders in  vanity,  he  lifts  up  his  voice  like  the  trump 


SECTION   III.  (6 

of  God,  and  seeks  to  break  the  spell  which  infatu- 
ates them,  while  he  exclaims,  "  What  shall  it  profit 
a  man,  if  he  gain  the  whole  world,  and  lose  his  own 
soul  ]  or  what  shall  a  man  give  in  exchange  for  his 
soul  ]"  Proceeding  to  the  mansion  of  Dives,  he 
shows  selfishness  there,  clothed  in  purple  and  fine 
linen,  and  faring  sumptuously  every  day — a  spec- 
tacle at  which  the  multitude  stands  in  earnest  and 
admiring  gaze,  as  if  it  drew  in  happiness  at  the 
sight — but  Lazarus  unheeded  perishes  at  the  gate. 
Approaching  the  house  of  prosperity,  he  bids  us 
listen  to  the  soliloquy  of  its  worldly  inhabitant,  "  I 
will  pull  down  my  barns  and  will  build  greater," 
a  resolution  which  the  world  applauds  ;  "  And  I 
will  say  to  my  soul,  Soul,  thou  hast  much  goods 
laid  up  for  many  years ;  take  thine  ease,  eat,  drink,, 
and  be  merry  " — a  prospect  of  happiness  wrhich 
the  world  envies  :  but  God  is  not  in  all  his  thoughts; 
besides  his  wealth,  he  knows  no  god.  Passing  into 
the  circle  of  devotion,  he  pointed  out  the  principle 
of  covetousness  there,  mingling  in  the  worship  of 
God,  choking  the  word,  and  rendering  it  unfruitful. 
Penetrating  the  heart;  he  unveiled  its  hateful  pre- 
sence there,  as  the  leaven  of  hypocrisy,  and  the  seed 
of  theft. 

And  can  we  wonder  at  the  energy  and  frequency 


74  MAMMON. 

with  which  he  denounced  it,  when  we  remember 
how  frequently  it  came  into  direct  personal  contact 
with  himself,  defeating  his  tenderest  solicitudes. 

7  O  » 

and  robbing  him  of  souls  he  yearned  to  save  ]  It 
was  covetousness  which  rendered  unfruitful  so 
large  a  proportion  of  that  heavenly  seed  which  he 
had  come  to  sow.  It  was  this  which  begrudged  him 

o          o 

the  anointing  for  his  burial.  It  was  this  which  rob- 
bed his  kingdom  of  a  subject,  just  at  the  moment 
when  "  the  young  man  "  appeared  to  be  about  to 
fall  into  his  train,  and  which  drew  from  him  the  af- 
fecting exclamation,  "  How  hardly  shall  they  that 
have  riches  enter  into  the  kingdom  of  heaven  !" 
This  it  was  which  left  the  Gospel-feast  so  thinly  at- 
tended, and  which  sent  excuses  instead  of  guests. 
His  audience  commonly  consisted  of  "  the  Pha- 
risees, who  were  covetous,  and  derided  him." 
Wherever  he  looked,  he  beheld  the  principle  in 
active,  manifold,  ruinous  operation,  "  devouring 
widows'  houses,'*  drinking  orphans'  tears,  luxu-  * 
riating  in  the  spoils  of  defenceless  childhood  and 
innocence.  Did  he  turn  from  this  sickening  spec- 
tacle, and  seek  relief  in  the  temple  1  there  he  be- 
held nothing  but  a  den  of  thieves.  Mammon  was 
there  enshrined  j  the  solemn  passover  itself  turned 
into  gain ;  the  priests  trafficking  in  the  blood  of 


s     „  -  SECTION    III.  75 

human  souls.  Like  their  forefathers,  <f  from  the 
least  of  them  even  to  the  greatest  of  them,  every 
one  was  given  to  covetousness." 

But  the  last  triumph  of  covetousness  remained 
yet  to  be  achieved.  To  have  sold  the  temple  for 
money  would  have  been  an  act  of  daring  impiety  ; 
to  make  it  the  place  of  merchandise  was,  perhaps, 
still  worse — it  was  adding  sacrilege  to  impiety. 
Only  one  deed  more  remained  to  be  perpetrated, 
and  covetousness  might  then  rest  satisfied.  There 
was  one  greater  than  the  temple.  God  so  loved  the 
world  that  he  had  sent  his  only  begotten  Son  to 
redeem  it — might  not  lie  be  sold  ]  Covetousness, 
in  the  person  of  Judas,  looked  on  him,  eyed  him 
askanse,  and  went  to  the  traffickers  in  blood,  and, 
for  the  charm  of  thirty  pieces  of  silver,  betrayed 
him  ;  a  type  of  the  manner  in  which  the  cause  of 
mercy  would  be  betrayed  in  every  succeeding  age. 
Yes,  in  the  conduct  of  Judas,  the  incarnation  of 
cupidity,  towards  Jesus  Christ,  the  incarnation  of 
benevolence,  we  may  behold  an  intimation  of  the 
quarter  from  which,  in  all  succeeding  times,  the 
greatest  danger  would  arise  to  the  cause  of  Christ. 
The  scene  of  the  Saviour's  betrayal  for  money  was 
an  affecting  rehearsal,  a  prophetic  warning  of  the 


76  MAMMON. 

treatment  which  his  Gospel  might  expect  to  the 
end  of  the  world. 

And  have  events  falsified  the  prediction  ]  Let 
the  history  of  the  corruptions  of  Christianity  testify. 
The  spirit  of  gain  deserted  the  Jewish  temple  only 
to  take  up  its  abode  in  the  Christian  church.  Having 
sold  the  Saviour  to  the  cross,  it  proceeded,  in  a 
sense,  to  sell  the  cross  itself.  We  allude  not  to  the 
venality  of  selling  "  the  wood  of  the  true  cross  " — 
that  was  only  a  diminutive  of  that  accursed  lust  of 
gain  which  "thought  the  gift  of  God  might  be  pur- 
chased with  money,"  and  which  literally  placed  the 
great  blessings  of  the  cross  at  sale.  Gradually 
every  thing  became  a  source  of  gain.  Not  a  single 
innovation  or  rite  was  introduced,  which  had  not  a 
relation  to  gain.  Nations  were  laid  under  tribute. 
Every  shrine  had  its  gifts  ;  every  confession  its 
cost ;  every  prayer  its  charge  ;  every  benediction 
its  price.  Dispensation  from  duty,  and  indulgence 
in  sin,  were  both  attainable  at  the  sum  set  down. 
Liberation  from  hell,  and  admission  into  heaven, 
were  both  subject  to  money.  And,  not  contend 
with  following  its  victims  into  the  invisible  state, 
covetousness,  even  there,  created  a  third  world,  foi 
the  purpose  of  assessing  its  tortured  inhabitants, 
Thus  the  religion,  whose  blessings  were  intended 


SECTION    III.  77 

to  be  without  money  and  without  price,  became  the 
tax  and  burden  of  the  world  ;  a  proverb  for  extor- 
tion and  rapine,  till  the  wealth  which  the  church 
had  drained  from  a  thousand  states,  "  turned  to 
poison  in  its  bosom/'  and  mankind  arose  to  cast  it 
from  them  as  a  bloated  corruption  and  a  curse. 

The  truth  is,  covetousness  is  native  to  our  fallen 
nature ;  and,  unless  religion  vanquish  it,  in  its 
indiscriminate  ravages,  it  will i  vanquish  religion. 
Other  forms  of  selfishness  are  partial  in  their  ope- 
ration, being  either  confined  to  a  party,  or,  at  most, 
to  an  order  of  character;  but  covetousness  is  the 
sin  of  humanity  :  it  is  the  name  of  a  disease  which 
knows  no  distinction  of  class  or  party — the  epi- 
demic malady  of  our  race. 

Gold  is  the  only  power  which  receives  universal 
homage.  It  is  worshipped  in  all  lands  without  a 
single  temple,  and  by  all  classes  without  a  single 
hypocrite  ;  and  often  has  it  been  able  to  boast  of 
having  armies  for  its  priesthood,  and  hecatombs  of 
human  victims  for  its  sacrifices.  Where  war  has 
slain  its  thousands,  gain  has  slaughtered  its  millions; 
for  while  the  former  operates  only  with  the  local 
and  fitful  terrors  of  an  earthquake,  the  destructive 
influence  of  the  latter  is  universal  and  unceasing. 
Indeed,  war  itself— what  has  it  often  been  but  the 


78  MAMMON. 

\ 

art  of  gain  practised  on  the  largest  scale  ?  the  cove- 
tousness  of  a  nation  resolved  on  gain,  impatient  of 
delay,  and  leading  on  its  subjects  to  deeds  of  rapine 
and  blood  1  Its  history,  is  the  history  of  oppression 
in  all  ages.  For  centuries,  Africa — one  quarter  of 
the  globe — has  been  set  apart  to  supply  the  monster 
with  victims — -thousands  at  a  meal.  And,  at  this 
moment,  what  a  populous  and  gigantic  empire  can 
it  boast !  the  mine,  with  its  unnatural  drudgery ; 
the  manufactory, .with  its  swarms  of  squalid  mise- 
ry ;  the  plantation,  the  market,  and  the  exchange, 
with  their  furrowed  and  care-worn  countenances,- — 
these  are  only  specimens  of  its  more  menial  offices 
and  subjects.  Titles  and  honours  are  among  its 
rewards,  and  thrones  at  its  disposal.  Among  its 
counsellors  are  kings,  and  many  of  the  great  and 
mighty  of  the  earth  enrolled  among  its  subjects. 
Where  are  the  waters  not  ploughed  by  its  navies  1 
What  imperial  element  is  not  yoked  to  its  car  1 
Philosophy  itself  has  become  a  mercenary  in  its 
pay ;  and  science,  a  votary  at  its  shrine,  brings  all  its 
noblest  discoveries,  as  offerings,  to  its  feet.  What 
part  of  the  globe's  surface  is  not  rapidly  yielding 
up  its  last  stores  of  hidden  treasure  to  the  spirit  of 
gain  ]  or  retains  more  than  a  few  miles  of  unex- 
plored and  unvanquished  territory  ]  Scorning  the 


SECTION    IV.  79 

childish  dream  of  the  philosopher's  stone,  it  aspires 
to  turn  the  globe  itself  into  gold. 


SECTION  IV. 


The  Present  Predominance  of  Covetousness  in  Britain. 

This  is  a  subject  in  which  the  Christians  of  Bri- 
tain* have  more  than  an  ordinary  interest.  For, 
though  no  part  of  the  world  is  exempt  from  the  in- 
fluence of  covetousness,  a  commercial  nation,  like 
Britain,  is  more  liable  to  its  debasement  than  any 
other.  Were  it  not  indigenous  to  the  human  heart, 
here  it  would  surely  have  been  born  ;  for  here  are 
assembled  all  the  fermenting  elements  favourable 
to  its  spontaneous  generation  :  or,  were  it  to  be 
driven  from  every  other  land,  here  it  would  find 
sanctuary  in  a  thousand  places  open  to  receive  it. 
Not  only  does  it  exist  among  us,  it  is  honoured,  wor- 
shipped, deified.  Alas  !  it  has — without  a  figur 

*  And  of  the  United  Slates  no  less. 


80  MAMMON. 

its  priests;  its  appropriate  temples,  earthly  "  hells ;" 
its  ceremonial ;  its  ever-burning  fires,  fed  with  pre- 
cious things  which  ought  to  be  offered  as  incense 
to  God  ;  and,  for  its  sacrifices,  immortal  souls. 

Every  nation  has  its  idol.  In  some  countries  that 
idol  is  pleasure ;  in  others,  glory  ;  in  others,  liber- 
ty ;  but  the  name  of  our  idol  is  Mammon.  The 
shrines  of  the  others,  indeed,  are  not  neglected,  but 
it  must  be  conceded  that  money  is  the  mightiest  of 
all  idol-gods. 

And  not  only  does  this  fact  distinguish  us  from 
most  other  nations,  it  distinguishes  our  present, 
from  our  former,  selves — it  is  the  brand-mark  of 
the  present  age.  For,  if  it  be  true,  that  each  sue 
cessive  age  has  its  representative ;  that  it  beholds 
itself  reflected  in  some  leading  school,  and  impres- 
ses its  image  on  the  philosophy  of  the  day,  where 
shall  we  look  for  the  image  of  the  existing  age  but 
in  our  systems  of  political  economy  1  "  Men  who 
would  formerly  have  devoted  their  lives  to  metaphy- 
sical and  moral  research,  are  now  given  up  to  a 
more  material  study  " — to  the  theory  of  rents,  and 
the  philosophy  of  the  mart.  Morality  itself  is  al- 
lowed to  employ  no  standard  but  that  of  utility  ;  to 
enforce  her  requirements  by  no  plea  but  expedien- 
cy, a  consideration  of  profit  and  loss.  And  even 


SECTION    IV.  81 

the  science  of  metaphysics  is  wavering,  if  it  has 
not  actually  pronounced,  in  favour  of  a  materialism 
which  would  subject  the  great  mysteries  of  huma- 
nity to  mathematical  admeasurement,  and  chemical 
analysis.  Mammon  is  marching  through  the  land 
in  triumph;  and,  it  is  to  be  feared,  that  a  large 
majority  of  all  classes  have  devoted  and  degraded 
themselves  to  the  office  of~4iis  train-bearers. 

Statements  like  these  may  startle  the  reader  who 
now  reflects  on  the  subject  for  the  first  time.  But 
let  him  be  assured  that  "as 'the  first  impression 
which  the  foreigner  receives  on  entering  England 
is  that  of  the  evidence  of  wealth,  so  the  first  thing 
which  strikes  an  inquirer  into  our  social  system  is 
the  absorbing  respect  in  which  wealth  is  held.  The 
root  of  all  our  law,s  is  to  be  found  in  the  sentiment 
of  property ;"  and  this  sentiment,  right  in  itself,  has, 
by  excess,  infected,  with  an  all-pervading  taint,  our 
politics,  our  systems  of  education,  the  distribution 
of  honours,  the  popular  notions — nay,  it  has  pene- 
trated our  language,  and  even  intruded  into  the 
sacred  enclosures  of  religion.  This  is  a  truth  o"b- 
vious,  not  merely  to  the  foreigner  to  whom  it  is  a 
comparative  novelty,  the  taint  is  acknowledged  and 
deplored  even  by  those  who  have  become  acclima- 
ted and  inured  to  it.  Not  merely  does  the  dimnc 

Mammon. 


82  MAMMON. 

protest  against  it  ;*  the  man  of  the  world  joins 
him  ;  for  it  is  felt  to  be  a  common  cause.  The  le- 
gislator complains  that  governments  are  getting  to 
be  little  better  than  political  establishments  to  fur- 
nish facilities  for  the  accumulation  of  wealth.  The 
philanthropist  complains  that  generous  motives  are 
lost  bight  of  in  the  prevailing  desire  of  gain  ;  so 
that  he  who  evinces  a  disposition  to  disinterested 
benevolence  is  either  distrusted  as  a  hypocrite,  or 
derided  as  a  fool.  The  moralist  complains  that 
"  commerce  has  kindled  in  the  nation  a  universal 
emulation  for  wealth,  and  that  money  receives  all 
the  honours  which  are  the  proper  right  of  know- 
ledge and  virtue."  The  candidate  for  worldly  ad- 
vancement and  honour  protests  against  the  arrange- 
ment which  makes  promotion  a  matter  of  purchase, 
thus  disparaging  and  discouraging  all  worth  save 
\  that  of  wealth.  The  poet  laments  that  "  the  world 
is  too  much  with  us ;"  that  "  all  things  are  sold  ;" 
that  every  thing  is  made  a  marketable  commodity, 

*  His  complaint  might  be  thought  professional.  In  this 
section,  therefore,  the  writer  had  had  recourse  to  authorities 
which  some  may  consider  of  greater  weight.  His  quotations 
are  derived  principally  from  Coleridge's  .Lay  Sermops,  Bul- 
wer's  England  and  the  English,  and  from  the  two  leading 
Reviews. 


SECTION    IV.  83 

and  "  labelled  with  its  price."  The  student  of  men- 
tal and  moral  philosophy  laments  that  his  favourite 
fr  sciences  are  falling  into  decay,  while  the  physical 
are  engrossing,  every  day,  more  respect  and  atten- 
tion ;"  that  the  "  worship  of  the  beautiful  and  good 
has  given  place  to  a  calculation  of  the  profitable ;" 
that  "  every  work  which  can  be  made  use  of  to 
immediate  profit,  every  work  which  falls  in  with 
the  desire  of  acquiring  wealth  suddenly,  is  sure  of 
an  appropriate  circulation  ;"  that  we  have  been  led 
to  "  estimate  the  worth  of  all  pursuits  and  attain- 
ments by  their  marketable  value." 

To  the  same  unhallowed  spirit  of  gain  is  to  be 
traced  that  fierce  "  competition  "  of  which  the  la- 
bourer, the  artisan,  the  dealer,  the  manufacturer, 
and  even  the  members  of  all  the  liberal  professions 
alike  complain.  That  competition,  under  certain  li- 
mits, is  necessary  to  the  activity  and  healthy  con- 
dition of  the  social  economy,  is,  not  to  be  denied. 
But  when  it  rises  to  a  struggle  in  which  neither 
time  nor  strength  is  left  for  higher  pursuits,  in 
which  every  new  competitor  is  looked  on  in  the 
light  of  an  enemy ;  in  which  every  personal  exer- 
tion, and  practicable  retrenchment  in  the  mode  of 
conducting  business,  do  but  barely  leave  a  subsist- 
ence, there  must  be  something  essentially  wrong 


84  MAMMON. 

in  our  ruling  spirit  or  social  constitution.  True,  the 
fact  that  the  evil  exists,  may  palliate  the  conduct  of 
the  Christian,  who,  in  mere  self-defence,  and  with- 
out his  own  seeking,  finds  himself  compelled  by 
circumstances  to  engage  in  the  rivalry  and  turmoil. 
Such  a  man  is  an  object  not.  of  blame,  but  of  pity. 
But  how  small  the  number  of  those  who  are  not 
actually  augmenting  the  evil,  either  by  a  sump- 
tuous style  of  living,  which  absorbs  the  entire  pro- 
fits  of  business  as  fast  as  they  accrue,  and  which 
even  anticipates  them  ;  or  else  by  a  morbid  and 
exorbitant  craving  after  something  new,  by  which 
the  ingenuity  and  application  of  men  of  business 
are  kept  constantly  taxed,  and  competition  is  al- 
most converted  into  hostility !  Our  present  con- 
cern, however,  is  not  with  the  cause,  but  with  the 
fact.  And  on  all  hands  it  is  admitted,  that  the  way 
in  which  business  is  now  conducted,  involves  all 
the  risk,  uncertainty,  and  unnatural  excitement  of 
a  game  of  chance. 

Nor  is  the  strife  of  fashion  less  apparent  than 
the  struggle  of  business.  Each  class  of  the  com- 
munity, in  succession,  is  pressing  on  that  which  is 
immediately  before  it.  Many  of  those  engaged  in 
the  rivalry  are  supporting  themselves  by  temporary 
expedients ;  concealing  their  real  poverty  by  oc- 


SECTION    IV.  85 

casiorial  extravagance  and  display.  Take  the  fol- 
lowing description  of  the  fact,  from  an  eminent 
Christian  moralist,  whose  position  in  society  enabled 
him  to  judge  correctly,  and  on  a  large  scale : — 
"  Others,  ....  a  numerous  class  in  our  days,  at- 
tach themselves  to  the  pomps  and  vanities  of  life. 
Magnificent  houses,  grand  equipages,  numerous 
retinues,  splendid  entertainments,  high  and  fa- 
shionable connections,  appear  to  constitute,  in  theii 
estimation,  the  supreme  happiness  of  life.  Persons 
to  whose  rank  and  station  these  indulgences  most 
properly  belong,  often  are  the  most  indifferent  to 
them.  Undue  solicitude  about  them  is  more  visible 
in  persons  of  inferior  conditions  and  smaller  for- 
tunes, in  whom  it  is  detected  by  the  studious  con- 
trivances of  a.  misapplied  ingenuity,  to  reconcile 
parade  with  economy,  and  to  glitter  at  a  cheap 
rate.  There  is  an  evident  effort  and  struggle  to  ex- 
cel in  the  particulars  here  in  question  ;  a  manifest 
wish  to  rival  superiors,  to  outstrip  equals,  and  to 
dazzle  inferiors."*  The  truth  of  this  picture,  it  is 
to  be  feared,  has  been  daily  increasing  ever  since 
it  was  drawn. 

A  spirit  of  extravagance  and  display  naturally 

*  Wilberforce  on  Practical  Christianity. 


86  MAMMON. 

seeks  for  resources  in  daring  pecuniary  specula 
tions.  Industry  is  too  slow  and  plodding  for  it. 
Accordingly  this  is  the  age  of  reckless  adventure. 
The  spirit  of  the  lottery  is  still  upon  us.  "  Sink  cr 
swim  "  is  the  motto  of  numbers  who  are  ready  to 
stake  their  fortune  on  a  speculation  ;  and  evil  in- 
deed must  be  that  project,  and  perilous  in  the  ex- 
treme must  be  that  scheme  which  they  would  hesi- 
tate to  adopt,  if  it  held  out  the  remotest  prospect 
of  gain. 

The  writer  is  quite  aware,  and  free  to  admit, 
that  we  are,  from  circumstances — and  long  may 
we  be — an  active,  industrious,  trading  people. 
Much  of  our  distinctive  greatness  as  a  nation  is 
owing  to  this  fact.  Nor  is  he  insensible  to  the  nu- 
merous claims  of  the  present  age  to  be  called  the 
age  of  benevolence.  Both  these  facts,  however,  he 
regards  as  quite  compatible  with  his  present  allega- 
tions. For  the  truth  appears  to  be,  that,  much  as 
the  benevolence  of  the  age  has  increased,  the  spi- 
rit of  trade  has  increased  still  more  ;  that  it  has  far 
outstript  the  spirit  of  benevolence ;  so  that,  while 
the  spirit  of  benevolence  has  increased  absolutely \ 
yet  relatively  it  may  be  said  to  have  declined,  to 
have  lost  ground  to  the  spirit  of  trade,  and  to  be 
tainted  and  oppressed  by  its  influence.  How  large 


SECTION    IV.  87 

a  proportion  of  what  is  cast  into  the  Christian  trea- 
sury must  be  regarded  merely  as  a  kind  of  quit- 
rent  paid  to  the  cause  of  benevolence  by  the  spirit 
of  trade,  that  it  might  be  left  free  to  devote  itself 
to  the  absorbing  claims  of  the  world.  How  small 
a  proportion  of  it  is  subtracted  from  the  vanities 
and  indulgences  of  life  ;  how  very  little  of  it  re- 
sults from  a  settled  plan  of  benevolence,  or  from 
that  self-denial,  without  which,  on  Christian  princi- 
pies,  there  is  no  benevolence.  Never,  perhaps,  was 
self-denial  a  rarer  virtue  than  in  the  present  age. 

Again  :  what  is  the  testimony  of  those  in  our 
most  popular  schools  who  educate  our  youth  ?  that 
tf  there  is  a  prevailing  indifference  to  that  class  of 
sciences,  the  knowledge  of  which  is  not  profitable 
to  the  possessor  in  a  pecuniary  point  of  view;" 
that  the  only  learning  in  request  is  that  which 
teaches  the  art  of  making  money.  The  man  of  an- 
cestral  rank  complains  that  even  respect  for  birth 
is  yielding  to  the  mercenary  claim  of  riches.  Such 
is  the  all-transforming  power  of  cupidity,  that  bu- 
siness the  most  oppressive  is  pursued  with  all  the 
zest  of  an  amusement,  while  amusement,  intended 
to  be  a  discharge  from  business,  is  laboriously  cul- 
tivated by  thousands  as  a  soil  for  profitable  specu- 
lation and  golden  fruit.  Perhaps  the  greatest  tri- 


88  MAMMON. 

umph  which  the  lust  of  lucre  has  achieved,  next  to 
its  presence  in  the  temple  of  God,  is  the  effectual 
manner  in  which  it  has  converted  the  principal 
amusements  of  the  nation  into  so  vast  and  compli- 
cated a  system  of  gambling,  that  to  master  it,  de- 
mands all  the  studious  application  of  a  profound 
science.  Looking  at  the  universal  influence  which 
wealth  has  obtained  over  every  institution,  and 
every  grade  of  the  social  system,  what  more  is 
wanting  to  induce  the  many  to  believe,  as  sober 
truth,  the  ironical  definition  of  the  satirist,  "  Worth 
means  wealth — and  wisdom  the  art  of  acquiring  it  ? 

"  Whatever  men  are  taught  highly  to  respect, 
gradually  acquires  the  rank .  of  a  virtue."  Well, 
therefore,  has  it  been  said  by  a  master  of  philoso- 
phy, that  <c  the  honours  of  a  state  direct  the  esteem 
of  a  people ;  and  that  according  to  the  esteem  of 
a  people,  is  the  general  direction  of  mental  energy 
and  genius."  The  consequence  of  affixing  the  high- 
est worldly  rewards  to  wealth,  is,  that  to  be  rich  is 
accounted  a  merit,  and  to  be  poor  an  offence.  Nor 
is  this  the  worst :  a  false  standard  of  morality  is 
thus  created,  by  which  it  is  made  of  less  conse- 
quence to  be  wise  and  virtuous,  than  to  be  rich. 

The  appalling  degree  to  which  such  a  standard 
has  obtained  among  us,  may  be  inferred  from  the 


SECTION    IV.  89 

manner  in  which  it  has  imprinted  itself  on  our  lan- 
guage. It  is  true  that  many  of  the  terms  and 
phrases  alluded  to,  may  sometimes  be  employed 
with  an  exclusive  reference  to  property,  and  quite 
irrespective  of  moral  worth.  They  are,  however, 
idioms  of  the  lan^ua^e,  an^  as  such  would  soon 

o       o    * 

give  rise  to  the  debasing  associations  in  question, 
even  if  those  associations  did  not  exist  before. 
But  the  tones  in  which  they  are  commonly  uttered, 
and  the  emotions  of  admiration  or  contempt  with 
which  they  are  accompanied,  abundantly  testify 
that  such  associations  already  exist.  Justly  has  a 
foreign  writer  observed,  for  instance,  that  "  the 
supreme  influence  of  wealth,  in  this  country,  may 
be  judged  of  by  the  simple  phrase,  that  a  man  is 
said  to  be  worth  sa  mucli  " — worth  just  so  much  as 
his  money  amounts  to,  and  no  more.  "Poor  crea- 
ture !"  is  an  exclamation  as  frequently  uttered  to 
express  contempt  as  pity,  and  may  indicate  that 
the  object  of  it  unites  in  himself  all  kinds  of  wretch- 
edness, and  many  degrees  of  guilt.  How  constantly 
are  individuals  and  families  pronounced  respecta- 
ble— that  is  the  favourite  pass-word  into  society — 
when,  if  reference  were  had  to  their  character  co 
any  thing  but  their  wealth,  they  would  be  found 
entitled  to  any  thing  but  respect.  What  is  ordina- 


90  MAMMON. 

rily  understood  by  good  society  ?  Certainly  the  ex- 
clusion of  nothing  bad  but  poverty  :  it  may  exclude 
every  one  of  the  virtues,  provided  there  be  a  suffi- 
ciency of  wealth.  And  when  we  speak  of  making 
a  meeting  or  a  society  select,  who  thinks  of  employ- 
ing any  other  process,  if  money  be  the  means  of 
admission,  than  that  of  raising  the  price,  and  thus 
erecting  a  test  of  wealth  1  We  find  ourselves  in  a 
world  where  a  thousand  conflicting  objects  propose 
themselves  to  our  attention,  each  claiming  to  de- 
serve our  supreme  regard  ;  but  who  thinks  of  dis- 
turbing the  ratified  decision  of  generations,  that,  of 
all  these  objects,  money  is  the  main  chance  ?  What- 
ever attainments  a  man  may  be  making  in  other 
respects,  yet,  as  if  wealth  were  the  only  prize  worth 
contending  for  in  the  race  of  life,  he  only  is  said  to 
be  getting  on  in  the  world  who  is  increasing  his 
property.  The  term  gain  is  not  applied  to  know- 
ledge, virtue,  or  happiness  :  it  is  reserved  solely  to 
mark  pecuniary  acquisitions ;  it  is  synonymous  with 
gold,  as  if  nothing  but  gold  were  gain,  and  every 
thing  else  were  comparative  loss.  And  the  man 
whose  gains  are  known  to  be  rapidly  increasing,  is 
not  only  spoken  of  by  the  multitude,  under  their 
breath,  with  marked  veneration  and  awe,  but  as  if 
he  more  nearly  approached  the  creative  power  than 


SECTION    IV.  91 

any  other  human  being,  he  is  said  to  he  making 
money  ;  and  having  said  that,  eulogy  is  exhausted  ; 
he  is  considered  to  be  crowned  with  praise. 

Could  we  ascertain  the  entire  amount  of  national 
excitement  and  emotion  experienced  in  the  course 
of  a  year,  and  could  we  then  distribute  it  into  class- 
es, assigning  each  respectively  to  its  own  exciting 
cause,  who  can  for  a  moment  doubt  that  the  amount 
of  excitement,  arising  from  the  influence  and  ope- 
ration of  money,  direct  and  indirect,  would   not 
only  exceed  that  of  either  of  the  others,  separately 
considered,  but  would  go  near  to  surpass  them  al- 
together ?    And  when  it  is  remembered  that  this 
cause  is  always  in  operation ;  that  it  has  acquired 
a  character  of  permanence  ;  that  our  life  is  spent 
under  the  reign  of  wealth,  how  can  it  be  otherwise 
than  that  we  should  become  its  subjects,  if  not  even 
its  slaves  ]    When,  year  after  year,  the  assembled 
wisdom  of  the  nation  is  employed  for  months,  dis- 
cussing, in  the  hearing  of  the  nation,  questions  of 
cost  and  finance,  trying  the  merit  of  every  propo- 
sition by  a  standard  of  profit  and  loss,  and  thus  vir- 
tually converting  the  throne  of  legislation  into  a 
table  of  exchange,  it  can  only  follow,  that  the  same 
standard  will  be  generally  adopted  in  private  life 
to  try  individual  questions.    If  the  body  politic  bo 


92  MAMMON. 

so  constituted  that  the  Exchange  is  its  heart,  then 
every  particular  pulse  in  the  community  will  aim 
to  find  its  health  by  beating  in  unison  with  it. 

Thus  the  spirit  of  gain,  which  in  most  countries 
is  only  one  power  amongst  many,  may  here  be  said 
to  be  tutelary  and  supreme  ;  and  the  love  of  money, 
from  being  an  occasional  pursuit,  becomes,  in  innu- 
merable, instances,  a  rooted  and  prevailing  passion. 
Nor  is  it  possible  for  piety  itself  to  escape  the  in- 
fection. To  live  here,  is  to  live  in  the  Temple  of 
Mammon  ;  and  it  is  impossible  to  see  the  god  wor 
shipped  daily,  to  behold  the  reverence  of  the  mul- 
titude, to  stand  in  the  presence  of  the  idol,  without 
catching  the  contagion  of  awe,  and  yielding  to  the 
sorcery  of  wealth. 

Are  our  religious  assemblies  exempt  from  the  de 
basing  influence  ]  "  My  brethren,"  saith  the  apos- 
tle James,  "  have  not  the  faith  of  our  Lord  Jesus 
Christ,  the  Lord  of  glory,  with  respect  of  persons. 
For  if  there  come  unto  your  assembly  a  man  with 
a  gold  ring,  in  goodly  apparel,  and  there  come  in 
also  a  poor  man  in  vile  raiment ;  and  ye  have  re- 
spect unto  him  that  weareth  the  gay  clothing,  and 
say  unto  him,  Sit  thou  here  in  a  good  place  ;  and 
say  to  the  poor,  Stand  thou  there,  or  sit  here  under 
my  footstool :  are  ye  not  then  partial  in  yourselves, 


SECTION    IV.  93 

and  are  become  judges  of  evil  thoughts  ]"  The 
apostle  is  deprecating  that  homage  to  wealth  which 
implies  that  it  is  honourable  for  its  own  sake  alone, 
and  that  poverty  is  disgraceful  however  borne ;  a 
homage  which,  while  it  is  sinful  every  where,  can- 
not be  practised  in  the  sanctuary  without  offering 
peculiar  insult  to  the  throne  of  God.  But  did  not 
the  apostle  draw  this  picture  prophetically  of  the 
present  day  ]  Could  he  now  witness,  says  Scott  in 
his  comment  on  this  scripture,  what  takes  place 
generally  in  this  matter,  and  give  his  opinion  of  it, 
would  he  not  repeat  the  censure,  that  we  are  influ- 
enced by  corrupt  reasonings  and  erroneous  calcu- 
lations 1  and  utter  it  in  words  even  more  severe  ] 
And  would  he  not  find,  it  may  be  added,  that  the 
influence  of  wealth  has  penetrated  deeper  still  ] 
that  "it  not  only  sits  in  the*  presence  of  God  while 
poverty  stands^  but  that  it  often  rules  there  while 
poverty  serves  ;  that  in  that  sacred  inclosure,  where 
men  should  take  rank  only  by  superiority  of  spi- 
ritual excellence,  wealth,  in  many  instances,  lords 
it  over  character,  and  reigns  with  a  sway  as  undis- 
puted as  it  exercises  in  the  world  1 

Has  the  management  of  our  benevolent  societies  es- 
caped the  prevailing  evil  ]  The  guardians  of  the 
funds  of  benevolence,  indeed,  cannot  too  carefully 


94  MAMMON. 

protect  them  from  exorbitant  charges,  and  a  waste- 
ful expenditure  ;  but,  at  the  same  time,  they  are  not, 
under  the  plea  of  economy,  to  refuse  to  the  trades- 
man a  remunerating  profit.  Yet  tradesmen  are  oc- 
casionally heard  to  complain  that  such  is  the  fact; 
that  the  grinding  system  of  some  of  our  religious 
committees  leaves  them  to  do  business  for  nothing 
Besides  which,  is  there  not,  in  many  instances,  toe 
much  reliance  placed  OR  the  efficacy  of  money  for 
the  accomplishment  of  religious  objects  1  too  much 
deference  paid  to  wealth  in  the  selection  of  chair- 
men, officers,  and  members  ?  too  evident  a  disposi- 
tion to  estimate  the  prosperity  of  an  institution  by 
the  amount  of  its  funds  1  too  much  of  a  pecuniary 
rivalry  with  kindred  institutions  ?  and  too  little 
delicacy  about  the  means  employed  to  swell  the 
funds,  provided  only  the  increase  take  place  1  Is  it 
not  equally  true  of  the  institution  that  "  maketh 
haste  to  be  rich/'  as  of  the  man,  that  it  "  cannot  be 
innocent  V9 

Are  our  public  meetings  of  benevolence  free  from 
the  taint  ?  Is  there  nothing  questionable  in  the  way 
in  which  money  is  raised  on  those  occasions  *?  no- 
thing of  a  worldly  mechanism  for  raising  benevo- 
lence to  the  giving  point  ?  nothing  of  the  anxiety  of 
a  pecuniary  adventure  felt,  by  those  most  deeply 


SECTION    IV.  95 

interested.,  at  the  commencement  of  a  meeting] 
and,  as  the  pecuniary  experiment  proceeds,  is  not 
tLat  anxiety  increased  as  to  how  the  speculation 
will  succeed  ]  Are  there  not  occasions  when  our 
platforms  exhibit  a  scene  too  much  resembling  a 
bidding  for  notice  ] — The  writer  feels  that  he  is 
treading  on  delicate  ground  ;  nor  has  he  advanced 
thus  far  on  it  without  trembling.  He  is  fully  aware 
that  many  of  those  scenes  to  which  he  alludes  have 
originated  spontaneously,  unexpectedly,  and  from 
pure  Christian  impulse  : — would  that  the  number 
of  such  were  increased  !  He  does  not  forget  that 
some  of  the  agents  of  benevolence  who  are  most 
active  in  promoting  a  repetition  of  such  scenes,  are 
among  the  excellent  of  the  earth.  He  bears  in  mind, 
too,  that  among  those  whose  names  are  proclaim- 
ed as  donors  on  such  occasions,  are  some  whom  it  is 
a  privilege  to  know ;  men  who  give  privately  as 
publicly  ;  whose  ordinary  charity  is  single-handed, 
And  he  feels  convinced  that  the  ruling  motive  of 
all,  is,  to  enlarge  the  sphere  of  Christian  beneficence 
to  the  glory  and  grace  of  Grod.  Nor  can  he  be  in- 
sensible to  the  unkind  construction  to  which  these 
remarks,  however  humbly  submitted,  are  liable  to 
expose  him ;  or  to  the  avidity  with  which  the  cap- 
tious and  the  covetous  will  seize  and  turn  them  to 


96  MAMMON. 

their  own  unhallowed  account;  or  to  the  foice  of 
the  plea  that  the  best  things  are  open  to  abuse,  and 
that  it  is  to  raise  objections  against  the  purest  me- 
thods and  means  of  benevolence.  Still,  however, 
he  feels  himself  justified  in  respectfully  submitting 
to  the  Christian  consideration  of  those  most  deeply 
concerned  in  the  subject,  whether  our  anxiety  for 
the  attainment  of  the  glorious  end,  has  left  us  suf- 
ficiently jealous  for  the  purity  of  the  means  ;  whe- 
ther some  of  these  means  do  not  call  for  reconside- 
ration ;  whether  they  do  not  too  directly  appeal  to 
motives  which  the  Gospel  discountenances  and  dis- 
owns ;  and  whether  they  rely  sufficiently  on  the 
power  of  Christian  appeal  to  Christian  principle  ; — 
whether,  in  fine,  the  mechanical  spirit  of  the  age  is 
not  beginning  to  influence  the  supply  of  our  funds 
to  the  injury  of  the  spirit  of  genuine  benevolence. 
But  does  not  the  very  fact,  that  novel  and  ques- 
tionable means  are  sometimes  resorted  to  for  the 
purpose  of  replenishing  the  funds  of  benevolence, 
imply  that  ordinary  and  approved  methods  had 
failed  to  answer  that  end  ]  in  other  words,  that  the 
charge  of  covetousness  lies  against  the  professors  of 
the  Gospel  generally  ?  But,  besides  this  presumptive 
evidence  of  the  charge,  it  is  easy  to  substantiate  it 
by  two  lirect  proofs — the  first,  derived  from  their 


SECTION    IV.  97 

conduct  in  the  world ;  and  the  second,  from  their 
conduct  in  the  church.  Who  has  not  heard  of  the 
morality  of  trade  as  differing  materially  from  the 
standard  morality  of  the  Gospel  1  Yet  how  small 
the  number  of  Christian  professors  who  perceive 
the  guilt  of  this  moral  solecism  !  How  few  who  do 
not  easily  fall  in,  for  the  sake  of  pecuniary  advan- 
tage, with  the  most  approved  worldly  methods  of 
increasing  their  profits  !  Blinded  by  the  love  of. 
gain,  and  justifying  themselves  on  the  ground  of 
custom  and  self-defence,  the  sense  of  right  is  over- 
ruled, and  conscience  itself  becomes  a  victim  on  the 
altar  of  mammon.  The  other  proof  of  the  covet- 
ousness  of  the  church  may  be  deduced  from  the 
very  fact,  that  its  contributions  to  the  cause  of  mer- 
cy are  annually  increasing.  For  it  proves,  either 
that,  having  reached  the  standard  mark  of  liberali- 
ty, we  are  now  yearly  exceeding  it,  or  else  that, 
with  slow  and  laborious  steps,  we  are  only  as  yet 
advancing  towards  it.  If  the  latter — does  not  the 
increase  of  every  present  year  cast  a  reproach  back 
on  the  comparative  parsimony  of  every  past  year  ] 
Will  not  the  augmented  liberality  of  next  year  re- 
proach the  niggardliness  of  this  ? 


Mammon. 


98  MAMMON. 


SECTION  V. 

The  Disguises  of  Covetousness. 

Easy  as  it  is,  however,  to  demonstrate  the  pre- 
valence of  covetousness, — -to  convict  the  individual 
conscience  of  the' evil,  to  bring  home  the  charge 
personally  so  as  to  produce  self  accusation,  is  one 
of  the  last  efforts  in  which  we  hope  for  success. 
Men  think  not  of  covetousness,  and  of  themselves, 
at  the  same  time.  He  who  can  decide,  with  equal 
facility  and  precision,  the  exact  point  at  which  cu- 
pidity begins  in  another,  no. sooner  finds  the  same 
test  about  to  be  applied  to  himself  than  he  disco- 
vers a  number  of  exceptions,  which  render  the 
standard  totally  inapplicable.  It  was  remarked  by 
St.  Francis  de  Sales,  who  was  greatly  resorted  to 
in  his  day  as  a  confessor,  that  none  confess  the  sin 
of  covetousness.  And  he  who  "  knew  what  was  in 
man,"  sought  to  alarm  our  vigilance,  by  saying  of 
this  sin  what  he  said  so  emphatically  of  no  other 
"•Take  heed,  and  beware  of  it." 

It  is  true  of  every  passion,  that  it  has  an  esta 
blished  method  of  justifying  itself;  but  of  covetous- 
ness  it  may  be  said  that  all  the  passions  awake  to 


SECT1OIM     V.  99 

justify  it;  they  all  espouse  its  cause,  and  draw  in 
its  defence,  for  it  panders  to  them  all;  "Money 
answereth  all  ends." 

The  very  prevalence  of  the  evil  forms  its  most 
powerful  protection  and  plea ;  for  "  the  multitude 
never  blush."    We  might  have  supposed  that  its 
prevalence  would  have  facilitated  its  detection  and 
exposure  in  individual  cases ;  but  owing  to  its  very 
prevalence  it  is  that  so  few  are  conscious  of  it.  We 
keep  each  other  in  countenance.  Having  been  born 
in  the  climate,  we  are  not  aware  of  any  thing  per- 
nicious in  it.    The  guilt  of  this,  as  of  every  other 
sin,  is  measured  by  a  graduated  scale  j  and  as  all 
around  us  indulge  in  it  up  to  a  certain  point  of  the 
scale,  it  is  only  from  that  point  we  allow  covetous- 
ness  begins ;  we  begin  to  reckon  guilt  only  from 
that  point.  Indignation  is  reserved  till  that  point  is 
passed,  and  the  passion  has  become  monstrous  and 
extreme.  Because  we  are  not  a  community  of  Tru- 
mans,  Elwes  and  Dancers,  we  exchange  looks  of 
gratulation,  and  flatter  ourselves  that  we  are  inno- 
cent.   The  very  resentment  which  we  let  loose  on 
such  personifications  of  the  vice,  seems  to  discharge 
us  from  all  suspicion,  and  to  grant  us  a  fresh  dis- 
pensation to  indulge  in  the  quiet  of  ordinary  covet 
ousness.    Yet,  often,  it  is  to  be  feared    that  very 


100  MAMMON. 

resentment  is  the  mere  offspring  of  jealousy ;  like 
the  anger  awakened  in  a  community  of  the  dis- 
honest, at  finding  that  one  of  their  number  has  vio- 
lated the  rules  of  the  body,  by  secreting  more  than 
his  share  of  booty. 

But  that  wjiich  constitutes  the  strength  of  covet- 
ousness,  is,  its  power  to  assume  the  appearance 
of  virtue  ;  like  ancient  armour,  it  is  at  once  protec- 
tion and  disguise.  "  No  advocate, "  says  Mrs.  More, 
"  will  venture  to  defend  it  under  its  own  proper 
character.  Avarice  takes  the  license  used  by  other 
felons,  and,  by  the  adoption  of  an  alias,  escapes  the 
reprobation  attached  to  its  own  name."  In  the  vo- 
cabulary of  covetousness,  worldliness  means  indus- 
try ;  though  it  is  obvious  to  every  Christian  obser- 
ver, that  the  pretended  industry  of  many  a  religious 
professor  is  the  destruction  of  his  piety,  and  will 
eventually  form  the  ground  of  his  condemnation. 
Idleness  is  his  pretended  aversion.  His  time,  his 
strength,  his  solicitudes,  are  all  drained  off  in  the 
service  of  Mammon;  while  nothing  is  left  for  reli- 
gion but  a  faint  sigh,  a  hurried  heartless  prayer, 
and  an  occasional  struggle  so  impotent  as  to  invite 
defeat. 

"  Bu£  I  rovidence,"  he  pleads,  "  has  actually  filled 
his  hands  "*vith  business  without  bis  seeking ;  and 


SECTION    V.  101 

would  it  not  be  ungrateful  to  lose  it  by  neglect  1" 
But  have  you  never  heard,  we  might  reply,  that 
God  sometimes  tries  his  people,  to  see  whether 
they  will  keep  his  commandments  or  not  ?  and  may 
he  not  be  now  proving  how  far  the  verdure  of  your 
piety  can  resist  the  exhaling  and  scorching  sun  of 
prosperity  ?  Besides,  is  it  supposable  that  God  in- 
tended you  to  interpret  his  grant  of  worldly  pros- 
perity into  a  discharge  from  his  service,  and  a  com- 
mission in  the  service  of  Mammon  ]  And,  more 
than  all,  significantly  as  you  may  think  his  provi- 
dence invites  you  to  labour  for  the  bread  that  pe- 
risheth,  does  not  his  Gospel,  his  Son,  your  Lord 
and  Redeemer,  call  you  a  thousand-fold  more  em- 
phatically to  labour  for  the  meat  which  endureth 
unto  eternal  life  1  You  may  be  misinterpreting  the 
voice  of  his  providence,  the  voice  of  his  Gospel  you 
cannot  misunderstand  ;  it  is  distinct,  imperative,  and 
incessant;  urging  you  daily  to  "  seek  first  the  king- 
dom of  God,  and  his  righteousness." 

Another  individual  is  a  slave  to  parsimony ;  but 
he  is  quite  insensible  to  it,  for  the  temptation  soli- 
cits him  under  the  disguise  of  frugality.  Waste  is 
his  abhorrence  ;  and  he  knows  no  refuge  from  it  but 
in  the  opposite  extreme.  Every  new  instance  of  im- 
poverished prodigality  is  received  by  him  as  a  warn- 


1 02  MAMMON, 

ing  from  Providence  to  be  careful.  His  creed  is 
made  up  of  all  the  accredited  maxims  and  world- 
honoured  proverbs  in  favour  of  covetousness,  the  au- 
thority of  which  he  never  questions,  and  the  dexte- 
rous application  of  which  fortifies  his  mind  with  an 
antidote  against  all  the  contagious  attacks  of  chari- 
ty. And  thus,  though  he  lives  in  a  world  supported 
by  bounty ;  and  hopes,  perhaps,  to  be  saved  at  last  by 
grace,  he  gives  only  when  shame  will  not  allow  him 
to  refuse*  and  grudges  the  little  which  he  gives. 

The  aim  of  another  is  evidently  the  accumula- 
tion of  wealth  ;  but  the  explanation  which  he  gives 
to  himself  of  his  conduct,  is,  that  he  desires  simply 
to  provide  for  the  future.  Want  is  his  dread.  Arid 
though,  in  his  aim  to  avoid  this  evil,  he  may  not 
distinctly  propose  to  himself  to  become  rich,  yet, 
what  else  can  result  from  his  constantly  amassing  ? 
His  interpretation  of  competence,  if  candidly  avow- 
ed, is  affluence  ;  a  dispensation  from  labour  for  him- 
self and  family  to  the  end  of  time,  a  discharge  from 
future  dependence  on  Providence,  a  perpetuity  of 
ease  and  sloth.  Till  he  has  succeeded  in  reaching 
that  enviable  state,  his  mind  is  full  of  foreboding ; 
he  can  take  no  thought  except  for  the  morrow.  As 
if  Providence  had  vacated  its  throne,  and  deserted 
its  charge,  he  takes  on  himself  all  the  cares  and 


SECTION    V.  103 

Durdens  oelonging  to  his  state.  And  laden  with 
these,  he  is  totally  disqualified  for  every  holy  duty 
and  Christian  enterprise  which  would  take  him  a 
single  step  out  of  his  way  to  competence.  And  of- 
ten he  is  to  be  seen  providing  for  the  infirmities  of 
age  long  after  these  infirmities  have  overtaken  him, 
and  labouring  to  acquire  a  competence  up  to  the 
moment  when  a  competence  for  him  means  only  the 
expenses  of  his  funeral. 

In  the  instance  of  a  person  who  has  attained  to 
competence,  covetousness  often  seeks  to  escape 
detection  under  the  name  of  contentment.  He  fan- 
cies that  he  is  completely  vindicated  from  the 
charge  of  cupidity,  by  saying,  <c  I  am  quite  con- 
tent with  what  I  have."  But  so  also  was  that  min- 
ion of  wealth  whom  our  Lord  introduces  with  the 
solemn  warning,  "  Take  heed,  and  beware  of  co- 
vetousness." His  contentment  is  only  covetousness 
reposing  self-complacently  from  its  toils,  resting  on 
its  we  11- filled  bags,  and  saying,  "  Soul,  take  thine 
ease/'  Let  an  agent  of  charity  approach  him  with 
outstretched  and  imploring  hand,  and,  as  if  touched 
by  ithuriel's  spear,  he  will  forthwith  start  into  his 
proper  character,  and  demonstrate  that  his  content- 
ment depends  en  Ms  keeping  his  property  entire; 
at.  least,  that  he  is  not  content  to  give. 


104  MAMMON. 

And  another  not  only  most  confidently  acquits 
himself  of  all  suspicion  of  selfishness,  but  even  ap- 
propriates the  credit  of  being  benevolent  on  the 
ground  of  his  natural  sensibility.  A  spectacle  of 
suffering  harrows  up  his  soul,  and  therefore  "  he 
passes  by  on  the  other  side."  An  object  of  destitu- 
tion afflicts  his  too  delicate  sympathies ;  and,  there- 
fore, he  closes  his  door  against  it,  saying,  "  Depart 
in  peace,  be  thou  warmed  and  filled;"  and  leaves 
it  in  its  destitution  to  perish.  And  thus,  by  belong- 
ing to  the  school  of  Rousseau  or  of  Sterne,  he  gives 
himself  the  credit  of  belonging  to  the  school  of 
Christ ;  by  paying  the  tax  of  a  sigh  to  wretched- 
ness, he  escapes  the  levy  of  a  heavier  tribute,  and 
even  purchases  a  character  for  the  tenderest  sus- 
ceptibility. But  sensibility  is  not  benevolence  ;  by 
wasting  itself  on  trifles,  it  may  render  us  slaves  to 
selfishness,  and  unfit  us  for  every  thing  but  self- 
commiseration. 

Covetousness  will  sometimes  indulge  itself  un- 
der the, pretence  of  preparing  to  retire  from  the 
^cares  and  turmoil  of  active  life.  The  propriety  of 
an  early  retirement  from  business,  must  depend,  of 
course,  on  circumstances.  But  how  often  does  the 
covetousness  which  wears  this  mask,  retain  her 
slave  in  her  service  even  to  hoary  hairs,  putting 


SECTION    V.  105 

him  off  from  time  to  time  with  delusive  promises 
of  approaching  emancipation.  Or  else  he  retires  to 
spend,  in  slothful  and  selfish  privacy,  that  which  he 
had  accumulated  by  years  of  parsimony.  Or  else, 
by  mingling  readily  in  scenes  of  gaiety  and  amuse- 
ment, he  shows  that  his  worldly  aversions  related, 
not  to  the  world  of  pleasure,  but  only  to  the  world 
of  business.  Instead  of  fixing  his  abode  where  his 
pecuniary  resources  and  Christian  activity  might 
have  rendered  him  an  extensive  blessing,  he  con- 
sults only  his  own  gratification,  establishes  himself 
at  a  distance,  it  may  be,  from  "  the  place  of  the 
altar,'*  and,  in  a  regular  round  of  habitual  indul- 
gence, lives  and  dies  an  unfaithful  steward,  a  sober 
sensualist,  a  curse  rather  than  a  blessing. 

Sometimes  covetousness  is  heard  enlarging  com- 
placently on  the  necessity,  and  even  piety,  ^of  'pro- 
viding for  children.  And  here,  be  it  remembered, 
we  are  not  considering  what  parental  duty  may  dic- 
tate on  this  subject,  but  only  what  covetousness 
often  does  under  its  borrowed  name.  Many  a  pa- 
rent gratifies  his  love  for  money  while  pretending 
a  love  for  his  children.  The  facility,  too,  with 
which  he  quotes  certain  passages  of  Scripture,  to 
defend  the  course  he  is  pursuing,  shows  how  ac- 
ceptable to  his  numerous  class  an  argument  would 


106  MAMMON. 

be  in  favour  of  hoarding,  since  these  few  perverted 
sentences,  which  only  seem  to  sanction  it,  are  his 
favourite  and  most  familiar  texts.  Of  these,  his 
chosen  stronghold,  perhaps,  is  the  declaration  of 
the  apostle,  "  He  that  provideth  not  for  his  own, 
arid  especially  for  those  of  his  own  house,  hath  de- 
nied the  faith,  and  is  wojse  than  an  infidel."  The 
sacred  writer,  in  giving  directions  relative  to  the 
maintenance  of  widows,  distinguishes  between 
such  as  the  church  should  relieve,  and  such  as 
should  be  supported  by  their  own  relatives  ;  and 
concerning  the  latter,  he  makes  the  statement  in 
question.  Whence  it  follows,  first,  that  the  provi- 
sion contemplated  by  the  apostle  is  not  a  laying  up 
beforehand  for  future  contingencies,  but  a  present 
supply  of  present  necessities,  a  simple  mainte- 
nance of  needy  relatives  from  day  to  day.  And, 
secondly,  that,  instead  of  countenancing  parents  in 
the  accumulation  of  great  fortunes  for  their  chil- 
dren, he  is  speaking  of  the  maintenance  which 
children,  if  able,  should  afford  to  their  aged  and 
destitute  parents.  With  the  subject  of  providing 
for  families,  therefore,  the  text  in  question  has 
nothing  to  do.  Rightly  interpreted,  we  see  that  it 
enjoins,  not  accumulating,  but  giving.  How  humi- 
liating is  the  only  explanation  which  can  be  given 


SECTION    V.  107 

of  the  general  perversion  of  this  Scripture,  and 
of  the  pertinacity  with  which  that  perversion  is 
retained. 

Let  the  Christian  parent  compare  the  merits  of  a 
useful  education,  and  a  qualification  for  business,  or 
a  profession,  with  the  merits  of  that  state  of  so 
called  independence  in  which  he  is  toiling  to  place 
his  family  ;  and  let  him  call  in  the  aid  of  Scripture 
and  of  prayer,  that  he  may  conduct  the  comparison 
aright,  and  we  will  not  fear  for  the  result.  Let  him 
look  around  his  neighbourhood,  and  institute  a 
comparison,  if  he  can,  between  the  apparent  cha- 
racter and  happiness  of  the  six  nearest  individuals 
who  have  been  left  dependent,  under  God,  on  their 
own  exertions  for  respectability  and  support,  and 
the  six  who  have,  been  left  independent  of  per- 
sonal exertion,  indeed,  but  pitiably  dependent  on 
wealth  alone  for  happiness,  and  let  him  say  which 
state  is  preferable  for  virtue  and  enjoyment.  Let 
him  say  what  is  to  be  thought  of  the  consistency  of 
a  Christian  parent  who,  with  our  Lord's  represen- 
tation of  the  danger  of  riches  ringing  in  his  ears, 
goes  on  scheming  and  labouring  to  leave  his  chil- 
dren rich  in  the  element  of  destruction ;  toiling  to 
place  them  in  a  condition  in  which,  he  admits,  it  is 
ail  out  impossible  that  they  should  be  saved.  Let 


I  OS  MAMMON. 

him  ask  himself,  whether  such  an  one  be  not  acting 
over  again,  on  a  smaller  scale,  the  part  of  the 
Tempter  when  he  brought  the  kingdoms  of  the 
world  and  the  glory  of  them  to  the  Saviour's  feet  1 
Let  him  remember,  not  only  that  he  is  to  leave  his 
children  behind  him  in  a  world  where  wealth  is 
thought  to  be  every  thing,  but  that  he  is  to  meet 
them  again  in  a  world  where  it  will  be  nothing — 
where  it  will  be  remembered  only  in  relation  to  the 
purposes  to  which  it  has  been  applied. 


SECTION  VI. 

Tests  of  Covetousncss. 

But,  the  more  insidious  and  seductive  the  forma 
of  covetousness,  and  the  greater  its  prevalence,  the 
more  necessary  does  it  become  to  study  the  disease 
in  its  symptoms  ;  to  trace  it  to  its  earliest  signs,  and 
view  it  in  its  slightest  indications.  In  order,  how- 
ever, that  the  patient  may  benefit  by  the  investiga- 
tion, skill  is  not  more  indispensable  in  the  physi- 
cian, than  a  solicitous  impartiality  in  himself.  In 
vain  would  it  be  even  for  the  great  Physician  to 


SECTION    VI.  109 

specify  the  various  signs  of  this  moral  malady,  un- 
less those  who  are  the  subjects  of  it  voluntarily  lay 
oare  their  breasts,  and  anxiously  lend  themselves 
lo  ascertain  whether  or  not  the  plague-spot  be  upon 
them.  Without  this,  they  would  close  their  eyes  to 
the  presence  of  ninety-nine  symptoms,  and  accept 
the  absence  of  the  hundredth  as  a  demonstration 
of  their  perfect  freedom  from  the  taint ;  while,  on 
the  other  hand,  a  tender  and  faithful  conscience 
would  overlook  the  absence  of  the  ninety-nine,  and 
take  alarm  at  the  presence  of  the  hundredth,  The 
absence  of  one  or  two  out  of  numerous  symptoms 
of  a  bodily  disease,  does  not  warrant  us  hastily  to 
conclude  that  we  are  totally  exempt  from  danger, 
and  to  congratulate  ourselves  on.  our  escape  j  for 
we  recollect  that  few  persons  exhibit  all  the  signs 
of  any  disease.  And  moral  diseases,  like  physical, 
are  modified  by  temperament  and  circumstances ; 
so  that  if  some  of  the  indications  of  the  malady  in 
question  are  wanting,  a  little  impartial  examina- 
tion may  disclose  others  sufficiently  determinate  to 
awaken  alarm,  and  produce  humiliation. 

"  What  are  those  signs,  then,"  we  will  suppose 
the  reader  to  inquire,  "  what  are  some  of  those 
signs  whose  presence  would  indicate  the  existence 
of  covetousness  in  my  character  1"  And  here, 


1JO  MAMMON. 

reader,  we  would  remind  you  that  tfye  inquiry  is  to 
be  conducted  under  the  eye  of  God ;  that  a  consul- 
tation of  physicians  over  your  dying  bed  would  not 
call  for  greater  seriousness  than  the  present  exer- 
cise ;  and  that  an  appeal  to  Omniscience,  and  a 
prayer  for  seasonable  grace,  would  not  be  the  least 
favourable  tokens  of  your  earnestness  and  desire 
to  be  benefited. 

You  have  seen  the  prevalence  of  covetousness, 
and  its  power  of  insinuation  under  fictitious  names  ; 
are  you  now,  for  the  first  time  subjecting  your  heart 
>j  a  thorough  inspection  on  the  subject?  but  ought 
not  this  simple  fact  that  you  are  doing  it  now  for 
the  first  time,  to  excite  your  suspicions,  and  pre- 
pare you  to  find,  that,  while  you  have  been  sleep- 
ing, the  enemy  has  been  sowing  tares  in  your 
heart  ]  Taking  it  for  granted  that  you  are  living  in 
the  habit  of  communion  with  God,  you  no  doubt 
advert,  from  time  to  time,  in  the  language  of  lamen- 
tation and  confession,  to  various  sins  which  have 
never  appeared  in  your  conduct,  but  which,  as  a 
common  partaker  of  sinful  humanity,  you  suspect 
To  exist  seminally  in  your  heart ; — is  covetousness 
named  among  them  ? — When  last  did  you  depre- 
cate it  ?  when  last  were  you  earnest  in  prayer  for 
a  spirit  of  Christian  liberality  '{ 


SECTION    VI.  Ill 

Your  station,  property,  or  mental  character  in- 
vest you,  it  may  be,  with  a  measure  of  authority 
and  influence ;  do  you  ever  employ  that  power  to 
oppress,  and  to  overrule  right  1  Are  you,  what  the 
poor  denominate,  hard-hearted?  capable  of  driving 
a  hard  bargain  ?  rigid  and  inexorable  as  an  Egyp- 
tian task-master  in  your  mode  of  conducting  busi- 
ness ?  enforcing  every  legal  claim,  pressing  every 
demand,  and  exacting  every  obligation  to  the  ex- 
tremest  point  of  justice  ] 

Are  you,  what  is  commonly  denominated  mean  ? 
cutting  down  the  enjoyments  of  those  dependent 
on  you  to  the  very  quick  ]  never  rewarding  exer- 
tion a  tittle  beyond  what  is  "  in  the  bond  V  doling 
out  requital  for  services  with  so  niggardly  a  hand, 
that  want  alone  would  submit-  to  your  bondage  1 

Can  you  ct  go  beyond,  and  defraud  another  in 
any  matter  V'  Do  not  hastily  resent  the  question  ; 
for  onty  remember,  first,  the  multiplied  laws  which 
already  exist  against  fraud;  and  the  insufficiency 
of  this  vast  and  complicated  apparatus  as  implied 
in  the  continued  labours  of  the  legislature  to  pre- 
vent, and  of  the  executive  to  punish,  fraud — all  in- 
timating the  dreadful  prevalence  of  the  evil.  Recol- 
lect, also,  that  no  multiplication  of  laws  can  supply 
the  place  of  principle  and  integrity ;  artifice  would 


112  MAMMON. 

still  find  a  way  of  escape  through  the  finest  network 
of  human  legislation.  Then,  again,  bear  in  mind 
the  grievous  but  acknowledged  fact,  that  two  kinds 
of  morality  obtain  in  life — the  morality  of  private 
life,  all  sensitiveness,  delicacy  and  honour ;  and  the 
morality  of  business,  all  secresy  in  its  own  move- 
ments— all  vigilance  respecting  the  movements  of 
others — all  suspicion  of  their  representations — all 
protestation  and  confidence  of  the  superiour  excel- 
lence of  its  own  wares — all  depreciation  of  theirs — 
a  morality  that  deems  a  thousand  things  justifiable 
in  business,  which  in  private  life  would  be  con- 
demned. Now,  we  take  it  for  granted  that  you 
would  not  violate  the  law ;  that  you  would  shudder 
at  the  bare  shadow  of  dishonesty ; — but  do  you  ne- 
ver avail  yourself  in-business  of  the  ignorance  and 
weakness  of  others  ?  Do  you  ever  take  advantage 
of  that  class  of  the  secrets  of  your  business,  which, 
though  deemed  defensible  by  the  world,  are,  to  say 
the  least,  of  a  doubtful  character  1  Are  you  satisfied 
with  escaping,  and,  perhaps,  barely  escaping  the 
penalty  of  the  law  ]  and  with  pleading  that  you  are 
only  doing  as  others  do  ? — and  all  this  for  the  sake 
of  a  little  paltry  gain  ? 

Providence,  perhaps,  has  assigned  you  a  station 
in  society,  which,  though  it  leaves  many  below  you, 


SECTION    VI.  113 

places  numbers  above  you.  Are  you  content  with 
the  allotment  ]  If  you  regard  your  own  situation 
with  dissatisfaction,  and  the  superiour  advantages  of 
others  with  envy,  and  speak  disparagingly  of  their 
merits,  and  repine  at  your  worldly  circumstances, 
though  at  the  same  time  the  imperishable  treasures 
of  grace  are  placed  within  your  reach,  what  are 
you  but  saying,  in  effect,  that  no  heavenly  wealth 
can  compensate  in  your  esteem  for  the  unrighteous 
mammon  after  which  you  pine  1 

We  have  adverted  to  the  numerous  maxims  and 
proverbs,  by  the  currency  and  frequent  repetition 
of  which,  the  world  seeks  to  fortify  itself  against 
the  claims  of  benevolence,  and  to  justify  itself  in 
its  all-grasping  endeavours  ;  do  you  find  these  max- 
ims occasionally  falling  in  self-justification  from 
your  own  lips  ?  He  whom  you  acknowledge  as 
your  Lord  and  Master  has  declared,  "  that  it  is 
more  blessed  to  give  than  to  receive,"  a  saying 
which  falls  like  a  paradox,  an  enigma,  an  impossi- 
bility, on  the  infidel  covetousness  of  the  human 
heart — do  you  find  that  your  heart,  when  left  to  it- 
self, sympathizes  more  cordially  on  this  point  with 
your  Master  or  with  the  world  ]  The  same  Divine 
authority  has  pronounced  it  to  be  a  characteristic 
of  the  pagan  and  ungodly  world,  to  care  for  the 

Mammon.  8 


114  MAMMON. 

provision  of  their  temporal  wants  as  solicitously- 
as  if  no  Providence  superintended  the  world,  no 
"  heavenly  Father"  cared  for  them  ;  do  you  stand 
apart  from  the  irreligious  in  this  respect  ]  If  their 
conduct  proves  that  they  have  no  God,  does  yours 
prove  ^that  you  have  one  ]  If  the  world  could  lay 
open  your  breast,  would  it  not  be  justified  in  con- 
cluding, that  though  you  have  a  God,  you  cannot 
trust  him*?  that, in  temporal  things,  you  are  oblig- 
ed, after  all,  to  do  as  they  do — rely  exclusively 
upon  yourself]  And  when  the  hour  returns  for 
your  appearance  in  the  closet,  in  the  sanctuary,  at 
the  post  of  Christian  usefulness  and  benevolence, 
but  returns  to  mourn  your  absence  ;  where,  then, 
are  you  to  be  searched  for  with  the  greatest  likeli- 
hood of  being  found  1  At  the  altars  of  Mammon  ] 
amidst  the  engrossing  cares  and  services  of  the 
wor-ld  ? 

Does  not  the  dread  of  a  petty  loss,  or  the  pros- 
pect of  a  petty  gain,  h'l]  you  with  emotions  beyond 
what  the  magnitude  of  either  would  warrant1? 
And  were  a  committee  of  the  wisest  and  the  best 
of  men  to  sit  in  friendly  judgment  on  your  worldly 
affairs,  would  they  not  be  likely  to  pronounce  that 
your  mind  might  be  safely  discharged  of  all  that 
solicitude  which  now  disturbs  it,  and  be  left  en- 


SECTION    VI.  115 

tirely  free  for  the  service  of  God  1  You  confess 
that  God  may  justly  complain  of  you  as  slothful 
and  unfaithful  in  his  service  ;  would  Mammon  be 
justified  in  urging  a  similar  complaint  ?  or,  rather, 
may  he  not  boast  of  you  as  one  of  his  most  dili- 
gent and  exemplary  servants  1  Are  you  providing 
more  earnestly  for  the  future  moments  of  time  than 
for  the  future  ages  of  eternity  ]  Are  you  spending 
life  in  providing  the  means  of  living,  and  are  you 
thus  living  to  no  end  ?  Are  you  preparing  to  de- 
part 1  or  would  death  find  you  saying,  ft  Soul,  take 
thine  ease  T'  counting  your  gains  ?  loth  to  quit 
your  possessions  ]  and  "  setting  your  affections  on 
things  on  the  earth  ]"  Have  you  engaged  in  any 
worldly  avocation  or  object,  not  from  necessity  but 
choice  \  and  merely  to  augment  your  means  of  os- 
tentation and  indulgence  1  And  are  you  to  be  found 
giving  early  notice  to  the  world  of  any  little  addi- 
tion made  to  your  property  by  an  instant  addition 
to  your  establishment  or  expenditure  r(  Were  two 
courses  open  to  you,  the  one  bright  with  gold,  but 
beset  with  temptation,  the  other  less  lucrative,  but 
rich  in  religious  advantages — which  would  you  be 
likely  to  adopt  \ 

Are  you,  at  times,  tempted  to  vow  that  you  will 
never  give  any  thing  more  in  charity  ?    Instances 


116  MAMMON. 

are  by  no  means  of  rare  occurrence  of  imposture 
practised  on  the  generous,  and  of  kindness  re- 
quited with  ingratitude,  and  of  benevolent  funds 
unfaithfully  administered  ;  and  some  of  these  pain- 
ful examples  may  have  come  under  your  own  ob- 
servation :  do  you  detect  yourself,  at  such  times, 
storing  them  up  as  arguments  against  future  cha- 
rity 1  conveying  them,  as  weapons  of  defence,  into 
the  armoury  of  covetousness,  to  be  brought  out  and 
employed  at  the  next  assault  upon  your  purse] 
When  you  are  called  to  listen  to  a  discourse  on  the 
perils  attending  the  possession  of  wealth,  does  the 
seed  fall  into  congenial  soil  1  or  is  it  necessary,  as 
often  as  the  subject  is  introduced,  that  the  speaker 
should  reproduce  his  "  strong  arguments  "  in  order 
to  reproduce  full  conviction  in  your  mind  ]  Which, 
think  you,  would  make  a  greater  demand  on  your 
patience,  an  argument  to  prove  that  you  ought  to 
give  more  to  the  cause  of  benevolence,  or  an  ex 
cuse  and  justification  for  giving  less  ] 

You  may  sometimes  find  yourself  passing  a  si- 
lent verdict  of  praise  or  blame  on  the  pecuniary 
conduct  of  others  ;  now,  when  you  see  an  indivi 
dual  more  than  ordinarily  careful  of  his  money,  do 
you  regard  him  with  a  feeling  of  complacency! 
when  you  hear  his  conduct  condemned,  are  you 


SECTION    VI.  117 

disposed  to  speak  in  liis  defence  1  or,  when  you 
see  a  person  prodigal  of  his  property,  is  your  feel- 
ing that  of  astonishment,  as  if  he  were  guilty  of  & 
sin  which  you  could  not  comprehend  ] 

It  is  hardly  possible  that  the  temperature  of  be 
nevolence  should  remain  quite  stationary  at  th& 
same  point,  in  any  mind,  for  years  together;  now 
on-  instituting  a  comparison  between  the  past  and 
tha  present,  do  you  find  that  you  have  suffered  no 
decrease  of  genuine  sensibility  ]  that  you  are  quite 
as  accessible  to  the  appeals  of  beneficence  now  as 
you  were  ten  or  twenty  years  ago,  and  conscious 
of  as  much  pleasure  in  yielding  to  them  ]  It  is 
highly  improbable  that  your  worldly  affairs  are 
precisely  the  same  now  as  they  were  at  that  dis- 
tance of  time;  but,  if  the  change  has  been- on  the 
side  of  prosperity,  have  the  oblations  which  you 
have  laid  on  the  altar  of  gratitude  been  proportion- 
ally increased  ?  or,  if  the  change  has  been  adverse, 
have  your  gifts  been  decreased  only  in  propor- 
tion ]  And,  among  your  regrets  at  the  change,  are 
you  conscious  of  a  pang  at  the  necessity  of  that 
decrease  ? 

It  is  to  the  honour  of  the  present  day  that  the 
calls  of  benevolence  multiply  fast;  which,  is  there 
reason  to  believe,  you  resent  more,  their  rapid  mul- 


118  MAMMON. 

tiplication,  or  your  inability  to  meet  them  all  1  But, 
in  order  to  meet  them,  have  you  never  thought  of 
retrenching  any  superfluity  ?  of  reducing  your  ex- 
penditure 1  or,  do  you  only  practise  that  preca- 
rious and  cheap  benevolence  which  waits  for  the 
crumbs  that  fall  from  your  table  *? 

You  may  be  scrupulously  abstaining  from  cer- 
tain worldly  amusements  ;  but,  having  marked  off 
a  given  space  in  which  you  do  not  allow  yourself 
to  range,  how  are  you  conducting  yourself  in  that 
portion  in  which  you  do  move  1  Are  you  not  vying 
with  the  world  in  self- gratification  1  thinking  of 
little  besides  the  multiplication  of  your  comforts  ] 
living  under  the  dominion  of  the  inferiour  appe- 
tites ?  as  far  removed  from  the  salutary  restraints 
and  self-denial  of  the  Gospel,  as  from  the  exploded 
austerities  of  the  monastic  life  ?  In  mechanics,  the 
strength  of  a  moving  power  is  estimated  by  the 
amount  of  resistance  which  it  overcomes ;  now, 
what  is  the  strength  of  your  benevolence  when 
tried  by  a  similar  test  1  what  does  it  overcome  ] 
does  it  resist  and  bear  down  your  vanity,  love  of 
ease,  and  self-interest  1  does  it  impel  you  to  sacri- 
fice "  the  pride  of  life,"  that  you  may  increase 
your  contributions  to  the  cause  of  mercy  ] 

Of  how  many  professing  Christians  may  it  not 


SECTION    VI.  119 

be  appropriately  asked,  not  only  "How  are  you 
living,  but  where  ?"  You  have  retired  from  busi- 
ness, it  may  be  ;  but,  in  taking  that  step,  whose 
will  did  you  consult  I  Did  you  refer  it  to  tbe  good 
pleasure  of  God]  did  you  retire  that  you  might 
do  more  good  than  before  ?  and  are  you  doing  it  ? 
did  you  look  out  for  a  sphere  in  which  you  might 
render  yourself  useful  ]  But,  whether  you  were 
formerly  immersed  in  the  business  of  the  world  or 
not,  have  you  escaped  from  a  worldly  spirit  1  In 
the  choice  of  your  place  of  abode,  in  the  distribu- 
tion of  your  time,  and  the  formation  ofjour  plans, 
do  you  take  counsel  from  the  word  of  God  1  Are 
you  acting  on  the  Christian  motto,  "  No  man  liveth 
to  himself!"  and  are  you  employing  your  various 
talents  as  if  they  came  to  you  bearing  this  in- 
scription from  the  hand  that  lends  them,  "  Occupy 
till  I  come  V 

You  may  hear,  occasionally,  of  a  munificent  do- 
nation made  unexpectedly  by  Christian  gratitude 
to  the  cause  of  God  ;  what  is  your  first  emotion 
at  the  report  ]  admiration  of  the  act,  and  gratitude 
to  the  grace  which  produced  it  ?  or  a  feeling  that 
the  donor  has  unnecessarily  exceeded  the  rules  of 
ordinary  benevolence,  and  a  disposition  to  impute 
motives  of  vanity  and  ostentation  1  If  a  benevo- 


120  MAMMON. 

lent  mind  had  conceived  some  new  project  of 
mercy  requiring  pecuniary  support,  would  your 
presence  be  a  congenial  atmosphere  for  the  bud  to 
unfold  in  1  or,  would  the  first  emotion  expressed 
in  your  countenance  be  a  chilling  doubt,  or  a 
blighting,  withering  frown  1  True  benevolence  is 
not  only  voluntary,  as  opposed  to  reluctant — it  is 
often  spontaneous,  as  opposed  to  solicited ; — but 
does  yours  always  expect  to  be  waited  on  1  has 
it  always  to  be  reminded  1  does  it  need  to  be 
urged  ]  does  it  never  anticipate  the  appeal,  and 
run  to  meet  its  object  1  And  when  you  do  give, 
is  it  your  object  to  part  with  as  little  as  you  can 
without  shame,  as  if  you  were  driving  a  hard 
bargain  with  one  who  sought  to  overreach  you  ] 
and  is  that  little  parted  with  reluctantly,  with  a 
half-closed  hand,  as  if  you  were  discharging  a 
doubtful  debt  on  compulsion  ]  Is  it  given  with  the 
air  of  a  capitulation,  or  bribe  to  importunity,  leav- 
ing the  applicant  who  receives  it,  ill  at  ease  ?  Do 
you  think  highly  of  the  trifle  you  give  1  not  only 
calculating  beforehand  how  much  you  can  spare, 
but  frequently  remembering  it  afterwards  1  plum 
ing  yourself  on  the  benevolent  exploit  ]  looking 
out  for  its  emblazonment  in  the  ensuing  Report, 
and  wondering  how  men  can  deny  themselves  the 


SECTION    VI.  121 

luxury  of  doing  similar  good  ? — then  the  mark  of 
selfishness  is  upon  you.  For,  only  remember  how 
cheerfully  you  are  constantly  parting  with  similar 
Bums  for  the  purpose  of  self-indulgence,  soon  for- 
getting them,  and  repeating  them  again,  "  think- 
ing nothing  of  them."  .%: 

But  to  lay  open  the  sia  in  all  its  disguises  is  im- 
possible. These  are  mere  hints  for  its  detection. 
Owing  to  their  deficiency,  however,  or  to  your 
own  negligence  in  applying  them,  the  evil  sought 
for  may  still  be  undiscovered.  But  let  nothing  flat- 
ter you  into  the  persuasion  that  you  are  exempt 
from  it.  If  any  believer  of  the  Jewish  church 
could  have  defied  its  remotest  approaches,  surely 
that  saint  was  David :  if  any  description  of  natu- 
ral character  could  form  a  guarantee  against  the 
sin,  here  was  a  man  who  appears  to  have  brought 
with  him  into  the  world  the  elements  of  magnani- 
mity and  generosity  of  soul ;  yet  we  hear  him  cry, 
in  the  full  consciousness  of  danger,  "  Incline  my 
heart  unto  thy  testimonies,  and  not  unto  covetous- 
ness."  If  any  order  of  piety  in  the  Christian  church 
could  have  claimed  entire  immunity  from  the  sin, 
surely  it  was  that  to  which  Timothy  belonged 
Yet  we  hear  the  apostle  Paul  warning  even  him. 
He  had  seen  so  many  apparent  proficients  in  piety 


122  MAMMON. 

drawn  in  by  this  moral  Maelstroom,  and  "  drown 
ed  in  perdition,"  that  he  called  on  his  "  dearly  be- 
loved Timothy,  his  own  son  in  the  faith  " — called 
on  him  with  more  than  his  usual  earnestness,  to 
flee  to  the  greatest  distance  from  this  fatal  vortex. 
"  O  man  of  God,"  said  he,  "  flee  these  things." 
As  if,  by  a  special  appointment  of  heaven,  the 
monitory  strain  addressed  to  a  man  of  God — to 
such  a  man  of  God — and  echoing  through  the 
church  in  all  ages,  should  make  it  inexcusable  for 
all  inferior  piety  ever  to  doubt  its  liability  to  the 
sin.  Of  all  the  myriads  who  have  appeared  on  the 
face  of  the  earth,  Jesus  Christ  is  the  only  being 
who  was  entirely  free  from  the  taint.  But  Tie  was  ; 
he  embodied  the  very  opposite  principle  ;  he  was 
the  personification  of  love.  This  it  was  which  con- 
stituted his  fitness  to  wage  war  with  selfishness, 
and  to  become  the  Leader  of  the  hosts  of  the  God 
of  love  in  their  conflicts  with  a  selfish  world.  Had 
they  been  faithful  to  his  cause,  long  ere  this  they 
would  have  reaped  the  fruits  of  a  final  and  uni- 
versal conquest.  "  But  all  seek  their  own,  not  tho 
things  which  are  Jesus  Christ's." 
• 


SECTION    VF  123 

SECTION  VII. 

The  Guilt  and  Evils  of  Covetousncss. 

Of  the  love  of  money,  the  apostle  declares  that 
it  "  is  the  root  of  all  evil."  Not  that  he  meant  to 
lay  it  down  as  a  universal  proposition  that  every 
act  of  wickedness  originates  in  cupidity.  But  that, 
while  many  other  sources  of  sin  exist,  there  is  no 
description  of  crime  which,  this  vice  has  not  prompt- 
ed men  to  commit.  Of  the  life-giving  tree  of  pro- 
phetic vision  it  is  recorded,  as  a  miracle  of  fertile 
variety,  that  <c  it  bare  twelve  manner  of  fruits ;" 
but,  as  if  to  eclipse  that  heavenly  wonder,  here  is 
an  earthly  root  yielding  poisons  and  death,  at  all 
times,  and  in  endless  variety. 

On  no  subject,  perhaps,  are  the  Scriptures  more 
copious  and  minute  than  on  the  sin  of  covetous- 
ness.  If  a  faithful  portrait  of  its  loathsome  charac- 
ter can  induce  us  to  hate  it ;  if  a  sight  of  the  virtues 
which  it  has  extinguished,  the  vices  with  which  it 
is  often  associated,  and  the  depraved  characters  in 
whom  it  has  most  flourished ;  if  the  tenderest  dis- 
suasives  from  it,  and  the  terrors  of  the  Lord  warn- 
ing us  against  it;  if  Sinai  and  Calvary  uniting  and 


124  MAMMON. 

protesting  against  it,-1 — if  all  this  combined  can  de- 
ter us  from  the  sin  of  covetousness,  then  the  Scrip- 
tures have  omitted  nothing  which  could  save  us 
from  its  guilty  contamination. 

•"  Thou  shalt  not  covet."  Such  is  the  language 
of  that  command  which  hot  only  concludes,  but  at 
the  same  time  completes,  and  guards,  and  encom- 
passes the  moral  law.  If  love  be  the  fulfilling  of  the 
law,  it  follows  that  the  whole  decalogue  is  to  be  re- 
garded as  a  law  against  selfishness ;  so  that  every 
selfish  and,  every  covetous  act  is,  in  effect,  an  infrac- 
tion of  the  whole  law.  It  is  to  love  ourselves  at  the 
expense  both  of  God  and  our  neighbour. 

Covetousness  appears  to  have  been  the  principal 
element  in  the  first  transgression.  For  did  not  the 
sin  consist,  chiefly,  in  an  inordinate  desire  for  an 
object  on  which  God  had  virtually  written,  "  Thou 
shalt  not  covet,"  and  which  properly  belonged  to 
another?  in  a  disposition  which  originates  all  the 
acts  of  a  grasping  cupidity  ]  It  is  observable  that 
the  terms  in  which  the  primary  sin  is  described, 
bear  a  close  resemblance  to  those  in  which  Achan 
describes  his  covetous  act.  "  When  I  saw  among 
the  spoils,"  said  he,  "  a  goodly  Babylonish  gar 
rnent,  and  a  wedge  of  gold,  then  I  coveted  them, 
and  took  them."  "  And  when  the  woman  saw  that 


SECTION    VII.  126 

the  tree  was  good  for  food,  and  that  it  was  plea- 
sant to  the  eyes,  and  a  tree  to  be  desired  to  make 
one  wise,  she  topk  of  the  fruit  thereof,  and  did  eat." 
She  saw,  she  coveted,  she  partook. 

And  having  entered  into  the  composition  of  the 
first  sin,  and  thus  acquired  a  bad  pre-eminence,  it 
has  maintained  its  fatal  ascendancy  under  each  suc- 
ceeding dispensation  of  religion. 

Covetousness,  in  the  person  of  Lot,  appears  to 
have  been  the  great  sin  of  the  patriarchal  dispen- 
sation. The  hope  of  increasing  his  wealth  allured 
him  first  to  pitch  his  tent  near  Sodom,  and  at  length 
prevailed  on  him  to  enter  the  city,  and  to  breathe 
its  pestilential  atmosphere  :  in  consequence  of  which 
he  became  subsequently  involved  in  acts  so  gross- 
ly sinful,  that  all  the  imperfections  of  the  other  pa- 
triarchs combined  together,  seem  insignificant  com- 
pared with  it ;  nor  should  we  probably  have  sup- 
posed that  he  was  a  subject  of  piety,  had  not  the 
Bible  assured  us  of  the  fact. 

In  the  instance  of  Achan,  to  which  WQ  have  just 
alluded,  covetousness  was  the  first  sin  of  the  Israel- 
ites under  their  new  dispensation  in  Canaan.  It 
violated  an  express  command ;  brought  defeat  on 
the  arms  of  Israel,  and  triumph  to  their  foes.  J *-.*..vf 

What  was  the  first  sin  of  the  Christian  church  1 


126  MAMMON. 

it  was  covetousness  in  the  instance  of  Ananias  and 
Sapphira.  It  was  covetousness  which  first  inter 
rupted  the  joy,  and  stained  the  virgin  glory,  of  the 
present  dispensation.  And,  presently,  we  shall  see 
that  it  will  take  a  leading  part  in  the  fearful  drama 
of  the  final  apostasy. 

The  Scriptures  exhibit  covetousness  as  pervad- 
ing all  classes  of  mankind.  They  describe  it  as  hav- 
ing thrown  the  world  generally  into  a  state  of  in- 
fidel distrust  of  the  Divine  Providence,  and  of  dis- 
satisfaction with  the  divine  allotments.  "  For  after 
all  these  things,"  saith  Christ,  "  do  the  Gentiles 
seek."  They  seek  after  worldly  objects  as  inde- 
pendently and  intently  as  if  there  were  no  Provi- 
dence to  care  for  them,  no  God  to  be  consulted. 
They  pursue  them  to  the  entire  neglect  of  every 
higher  object.  Sometimes  covetousness  has  been 
seen  actuating  and  debasing  the  character  of  an 
entire  people.  Against  the  Israelites  it  is  alleged, 
"  From  the  least  of  them  even  unto  the  greatest 
of  them,  every  one  is  given  to  covetousness."  Of 
Tyre  it  is  said,  "  By  thy  great  wisdom  and  by  thy 
tiaffic  hast  thou  increased  thy  riches,  and  thine 

heart  is  lifted  up  because  of  thy  riches 

thou  hast  set  thine  heart  as  the  heart  of  God."  And 
of  Chaldea  it  is  said,  "  Wo  to  him  that  coveteth  an 


SECTION    VII.      „  127 

evil  covetousness  to  his  house,  that  he  may  set  his 
nest  on  high,  that  he  may  be  delivered  from  the 
power  of  evil."  The  insatiable  desires,  or  the  con- 
tinued prosperity  and  boundless  possessions  of 
these  nations  had  left  nothing  in  the  national  cha- 
racter but  rapacity,  arrogance,  and  a  proud  impie- 
ty which  braved  the  very  throne  of  God. 

Descending  to  examine  the  component  parts  of 
a  nation,  we  find  covetousness  infecting  and  pervad- 
ing them  all.  Hear  avarice  speaking  by  the  mouth 
of  Nebuchadnezzar,  "  By  the  strength  of  my  hand 

I  have  done  it,  and  by  my  wisdom I  have 

robbed  their  treasures my  hand  hath  found 

as  a  nest  the  riches  of  the  people ;  and  as  one  ga- 
thereth  eggs  that  are  left,  have  I  gathered  all  the 
earth."  How  vividly  does  Jeremiah  depict  its  atro- 
cities in  the  unbridled  conduct  of  a  Jewish  king ; 
"  Thine  eyes  and  thine  heart  are  not  but  for  thy 
covetousness,  and  for  to  shed  innocent  blood,  and 
for  oppression,  and  for  violence,  to  do  it."  And 
who  that  is  familiar  with  sacred  history  does  not 
here  think  of  Ahab  coveting  the  vineyard  of  Na- 
both,  and  obtaining  it  by  artifice,  subornation,  arid 
murder? 

Govetousness  in  rulers  leads  to  bribery  and  in- 
justice. "  Thou  shalt  take  no  gift,"  said  Moses, 


128  MAMMON. 

"  for  the  gift  blindeth  the  wise,  and  perverteth  the 
words  of  the  righteous."  Accordingly,  it  is  re- 
corded of  the  sons  of  Samuel,  that  "  they  walked 
not  in  his  ways,  but  turned  aside  after  lucre,  and 
took  bribes,  and  perverted  judgment."  And  of  the 
Jewish  rulers,  "  they  are  greedy  dogs  which  can 

never  have  enough they  all  look  to  their 

•>wn  way ;  every  one  for  his  gain  from  his  quar- 
ter." And  of  Felix,  that  "  he  hoped  that  money 
would  have  been  given  him  of  Paul,  that  he  might 
loose  him."  Covetousness  has  turned  the  priests 
and  ministers  of  God  into  mercenary  hirelings ; 
"  The  heads  of  Zion  judge  for  reward,  and  the 
prophets  thereof  divine  for  money  :  yet  will  they 
lean  upon  the  Lord,  and  say,  Is  not  the  Lord  among 
us  1  none  evil  can  come  upon  us."  'In  the  depart- 
ment of  trade  this  sin  induces  the  buyer  to  depre- 
ciate the  thing  which  he  wishes  to  purchase,  and 
the  seller  to  employ  "  divers  weights  and  mea- 
sures;" thus  generating  fraud,  falsehood,  and  in- 
justice :  while  in  both  it  leads  to  an  impious  impa- 
tience of  the  sacred  restraints  of  the  Sabbath, 
inducing  them  to  say,  "  When  will  the  new  moon 
be  gone,  that  we  may  sell  corn  ]  and  the  Sabbath, 
that  we  may  set  forth  "wheat  ?  making  the  ephah 
small,  and  the  shekel  great,  and  falsifying  the  ba- 


SECTION    VII.  129 

lances  by  deceit,  that  we  may  buy  the  poor  for 
silver,  and  the  needy  for  a  pair  of  shoes,  and  sell 
the  refuse  of  the  wheat  ]"  Covetousness  turns  the 
master  into  an  oppressor,  and  the  servant  into  a 
thief.  In  illustration  of  the  former,  the  Scripture 
describes  a  Laban  evading  his  engagements  with 
Jacob,  "  changing  his  wages  ten  times,"  and  ex- 
acting from  him  years  of  laborious  servitude ; 
and  it  denounces  those  who,  though  their  fields 
had  been  reaped,  "  kept  back  the  hire  of  the  la- 
bourer by  fraud."  And  in  illustration  of  the  latter, 
it  exhibits  an  unscrupulous  Gehazi,  plausibly  ly- 
ing, and  enriching  himself  at  the  expense  of  his 
master's  character,  and  of  the  honour  of  God ; 
and  it'  exhorts  servants  to  be  "  obedient  unto  their 
masters,  not  purloining,  but  showing  all  good  fidel- 
ity." Thus  have  all  classes,  in  various  degrees, 
lived  under  the  dominion  of  avarice. 

The  Scriptures  ascribe  to  the  same  sin,  in  whole 
or  in  part,  some  of  the  foulest  acts,  and  the  most ' 
fearful  results,  that  have  stained  the  history  of  man. 
Some  of  these  we'  have  already  named.  Oppres- 
sion, violence,  and  murder,  have  been  among  its 
familiar  deeds.  "  Wo  to  them  that  devise  iniquity, 
and  work  evil  upon  their  beds  !  when  the  morning 
is  light  they  practise  it>  because  it  is  in  the  power 

Mammon.  9 


130  MAMMON. 

of  their  hands.  And  they  covet  fields,  and  take 
them  by  violence ;  and  houses,  and  take  them 
away  :  so  they  oppress  a  man  and  his  house,  even 
a  man  and  his  heritage."  "So  are  the  ways  of 
every  one  that  is  greedy  of  gain ;  who  taketb 
away  the  life  of  the  owners  thereof.'* 

In  the  person  of  Balaam  covetousnejss  essayed 
to  curse  the  chosen  people  of  God  ;  but  failing  in 
the  infernal  attempt,  and  yet  resolved  to  clutch 
the  promised  reward,  it  devised  another  course  ;  it 
"  taught  Balak  to  cast  a  stumbling-block  before  the 
children  of  Israel,  to  eat  things  sacrificed  to  idols, 
and  to  commit  fornication."  The  dreadful  device 
succeeded,  the  displeasure  of  God  was  excited 
against  the  people,  so  that  "  there  fell  in  one  day 
three  and -twenty  thousand."  Such  was  "  the  way 
of  Balaam,  Che  son  of  Bosor,  who  loved  the  wages 
of  unrighteousness."  And  so  ingenious,  persever- 
ing, and  fatally  successful  was  "  Balaam  for  re- 
ward." Covetousness  instigated  Judas  to  betray 
the  Son  of  God,  the  Saviour  of  the  world,  "for 
thirty  pieces  of  silver."  It  induced  Ananias  and 

Sapphira  to    "  tempt  the  Holy  Ghost to 

lie,  not  unto  men,  but  unto  God."  In  the  base  ex- 
pectation of  turning  "  the  gift  of  God"  to  a  lucra- 
tive account,  it  led  Simon  to  offer  to  purchase  that 


SECTION    VII.  13J 

gift  "  with  money."  It  has  even  assumed  the  sa- 
cred office,  trod  the  courts  of  the  Lord,  tf  brought 
in  damnable  heresies,"  arid  "  with  feigned  words," 
words  studied  to  render  the  heresy  palatable  and 
marketable,  it  has  "  made  jnerchandise  "  of  men. 
It  converted  the  Jewish  temple  into  "  a  den  of 
thieves  ;"  and  among  the  articles  of  merchandise 
in  the  mystical  Babylon  were  seen  "  the  souls 
of  men." 

The  Scriptural  classification  of  this  sin  is  illus- 
trative of  its  vile  and  aggravated  nature ;  for  it 
stands  associated  with  all  the  principal  sins. 

In  that  fearful  catalogue  of  the  vices  of  the 
heathen  world  furnished  by  the  apostle  Paul,  in 
the  first  chapter  of  his  Epistle  to  the  Romans,  co- 
vetousness  stands  forth  conspicuous. 

When  the  apostle  Peter  is  describing  the  cha- 
racter of  those  false  teachers  who  would  arise  in 
the  church,  and  describing  it  with  a  view  to  its  be- 

inf  recognized  as  soon  as  seen,  and  hated  as  soon 
o  o 

as  recognized,  he. names  covetousness  as  one  of 
their  leading  features.  "  But  there  were  false  pro- 
phets also  among  the  people,  even  as  there  shall  be 
false  teachers  among  you,  who  privily  shall  bring 
in  damnable  heresies,  even  denying  the  Lord  that 
bought  them,  and  bring  upon  themselves  swift 

I 


132  MAMMON. 

destruction.  And  many  shall  follow  their  perni- 
cious ways ;  by  reason  of  whom  the  way  of  truth 
shall  be  evil  spoken  of.  And  through  covetousness 
shall  they,  with  feigned  words,  Trrake  merchandise 
of  you." 

Covetousness  will  be  one  qftlie  Characteristics  of 
the  fitial  apostasy.'  ."  This  know  also,  that  in  the 
last  days  perilous  times  shall  come.  For  men  shall 
be  lovers  of  their  own  selves,  covetous,  boasters, 
proud,  blasphemers,  disobedient  to  parents,  un- 
thankful, unholy,  without  natural  affection,  truce- 
breakers,  false  accusers,  incontinent,  fierce,  des- 
pisers  of  those  that  are  good,  traitors,  heady,  high- 
minded,  lovers  of  pleasure  more  than  lovers 
of  God." 

In  the  last  quotation  covetousness  is  described 
as  more  than  an  attendant  evil  of  the  apostasy — it 
is  one  of  its  very  elements.  In  the  following  pla- 
ces it  is  identified  with  idolatry : — "  Fornication, 
and  all  uncleanness,  or  covetousness,  let  it  not  be 
once  named  among  you,  as  becometh  saints  ;  .  .  « 
for  this  ye  know,  that  no  whoremonger,  nor  un- 
clean person,  nor  covetous  man,  who  is  an  idolater, 
hath  any  inheritance  in  the  kingdom  of  Christ  and 
of  God."  "  Mortify  therefore  your  members  which 
are  upon  the  earth  j  fornication,  uncleanness,  inor- 


SECTION    VII.  133 

diuate  affection,  evil  concupiscence,  and  covetous- 
ness,  which  is  idolatry  :  for  which  things'  sake  the 
wrath  of  God  cometh  on  the  children  of  disobe- 
dience." In  addition  to  which  the  apostle  James 
evidently  identifies  it  with  adultery.  "  Ye  covet,  and 
have  not  ....  ye  ask,  and  receive  not,  because 
ye  ask  amiss,  that  ye  may  consume  it  upon  your 
lusts.  Ye  adulterers,  and  aduTteresses,  know  ye 
not  that  the  friendship  of  the  world  is  enmity  with 
God  ]  whosoever,  therefore,  will  be  a  friend  of  the 
world  is  the  enemy  of  God." 

Covetousness  is  not  only  subversive  of  the  three- 
fold law  of  Christian  duty,  personal,  social,  and  di- 
vine, but  it  stands  connected  with  each  of  the  op- 
posite series  of  vices.  "  For  from  within,  out  of  the 
heart  of  men,  proceed  evil  thoughts,  adulteries, 
fornications,  murders,  thefts,  covetousness."  "  I 
have  written  unto  you,  not  to  keep  company,  if  any 
man  that  is  called  a  brother  be  a  fornicator,  or  co- 
vetous, or  an  idolater,  or  a  railer,  or  a  drunkard,  or 
an  extortioner;  with  such  an  one  no  not  to  eat." 
et  Know  ye  not  that  the  unrighteous  shall  not  in- 
herit the  kingdom  of  God  1  Be  not  deceived  :  nei- 
ther fornicators,  nor  idolaters,  nor  adulterers,  nor 
effeminate,  nor  abusers  of  themselves  with  man- 
kind, nor  thieves,  nor  covetous,  nor  drunkards,  nor 


134     £  MAMMON. 

revilers,  nor  extortioners,  shall  inherit  the  king- 
dom of  God."  "  Having  eyes  full  of  adultery,  and 
that  cannot  cease  from  sin ;  beguiling  unstable 
souls ;  a  heart  they  have  exercised  with  covetous 
practices ;  cursed  children." 

In  the  first  part  of  this  classification,  we  find  co- 
vetousness  distinguishing  itself  as  a  prime  element 
in  the  great  system  of  heathenism,  even  when  that 
empire  of  depravity  was  at  its  worst.  In  the  second 
part,  we  see  it  forming  a  leading  feature  in  the 
character  of  men  whose  enormous  impiety  the 
apostle  appears  to  have  felt  it  a  labour  to  describe. 
In  the  third,  we  behold  covetousness  lending  an 
additional  shade  of  horrour  to  the  perilous  times  of 
the  apostasy — times  so  fearful,  in  the  estimation  of 
the  apostle,  that  we  may  rest  assured  he  would 
have  admitted  into  his  description  of  them  none  but 
evils  of  first-rate  magnitude — and  yet  covetousness 
is  not  only  there,  it  is  among  the  first  evils  which 
he  specifies.  His  classification  implies,  that  of  all 
the  sins  which  will  then  prevail,  selfishness  will  be 
the  prolific  root,  and  covetousness  the  first  fruit. 
So -that  when  the  whole  history  of  covetousness 
shall  be  read  forth  from  the  book  of  God's  remem- 
brance, it  will  be  found  that  it  entered  largely  into 
the  first  fall  of  man,  and  into  the  last  fall  of  the 


SECTION    VII.  135 

church  ;  and  that  during  the  long  lapse  of  time  be- 
tween, it  never  lost  its  power  nor  ceased  to  reign. 
From  the  fourth,  we  learn,  that  if  the  word  of  God 
identifies  covetousness  with  some  sins  rather  than 
with  others,  it  is,  partly,  because  those  sins  rank 
first  in  guilt ;  leaving  us  to  infer  that  if  there  were 
a  sin  which  ranked  higher  still,  covetousness  would 
have  been  identified  with  that  sin.  What  was  the 
great  sin  of  the  Jewish  dispensation,  but  the  sin 
of  idolatry  ]  it  was  to  repeal  the  theocracy,  to  be 
guilty  of  treason  against  the  throne  of  heaven. 
"  But,"  says  the  Apostle  Paul,  fearful  as  it  is,  "  co 
vetousness  is  idolatry."  What  must  have  been  the 
abhorrence  with  which  a  pious  Jew  regarded  adul- 
tery, when  the  sin  became  associated  in  his  mind 
as  the  scriptural  representation  of  the  guilt  of  idol- 
atry !  for  <f  Judah  committed  adultery  with  stocks 
and  with  "stones."  And  yet,  great  as  his  conception 
of  its  enormity  must  have  been,  the  Apostle  James 
declares  of  the  covetous,  that  he  is  violating  the 
most  sacred  obligations  to  God,  that  he  is  commit- 
ting adultery  with  gold.  And  what  can  be  more 
fearful  in  the  eyes  of  a  sincere  Christian  than  the 
sin  of  apostasy?  of  trampling  under  foot  the  Son 
of  God  ]  it  is  the  very  consummation  of  guilt.  And 
yet,  fearful  as  it  is,  the  Apostle  Peter  intimates  that 


136  MAMMON. 

covetousness  is  apostasy.  And  from  the  fifth  part, 
we  learn  that  covetousness  repeals  the  entire  law 
of  love ;  that  it  proclaims  war  against  all  the  virtues 
included  in  living  "  soberly,  righteously,  and  god 
ly,"  and  is  in  sworn  confederacy  with  all  the  op- 
posite sins  included  in  personal  intemperance,  in- 
justice towards  men,  and  impiety  towards  God. 
Nor  is  the  reason  of  this  alliance,  or  scriptural  clas- 
sification, obscure.  Covetousness  is  classed  with 
intemperance — -or  the  sins  which  appear  to  termi- 
nate on  the  man  himself — because,  like  them,  it 
tends  to  debase  and  imbrute  him.  It  is  ranked  with 
injustice — or  the  sins  directed  against'society — be- 
cause, like  them,  if  indulged,  and  carried  out,  it 
seeks  its  gratification  at  the  expense  of  all  the  so- 
cial laws,  whether  enacted  by  God  or  man.  And  it 
is  associated  with  impiety — or  sins  directly  against 
God — because,  like  them,  it  effaces  the*  image  of 
God  from  the  heart,  and  enshrines  an  idol  there  in 
his  stead. 

Such  is  a  mere  outline  of  the  representations  of 
Scripture  in  relation  to  the  guilt  and  evils  of  cove- 
tousness. Entering  with  the  first  transgression,  and 
violating  the  spirit  of  the  whole  law,  it  has  polluted, 
and  threatened  the  existence,  of  each  dispensation 
of  religion ;  infected  all  classes  and  relations  of  so 


SECTION   VII.  137 

ciety ;  shown  itself  capable  of  the  foulest  acts ;  is 
described  as  occupying  a  leading  place  in  the  worst 
state  of  heathenism,  in  the  worst  times  of  the  apos- 
tasy, and  in  the  worst  characters  of  those  times ; 
and  has  the  worst  sins  for  its  appropriate  emblems, 
and  its  nearest  kindred,  and  "  all  evil "  in  its  train. 

To  exaggerate  the  evils  of  a  passion  which  ex- 
hibits such  a  monopoly  of  guilt,  would  certainly  be 
no  easy  task.  It  has  systematized  deceit,  and  made 
it  a  science. 

Cunning  is  its  chosen  counsellor  and  guide.  It 
finds  its  way,  as  by  instinct,  through  all  the  intrica- 
cies of  the  great  labyrinth  of  fraud.  It  parts  with 
no  company,  and  refuses  no  aid,  through  fear  of 
contamination.  Blood  is  not  too  sacred  fot  it  to 
buy,  nor  religion  too  divine  for  it  to  sell.  From  the 
first  step  in  fraud  to  the  dreadful  consummation  of 
apostasy  or  murder,  covetousness  is  familiar  with 
every  step  of  the  long,  laborious,  and  fearful  path. 
Could  we  only  see  it  embodied,  what  a  monster 
should  we  behold !  Its  eyes  have  no  tears.  With 
more  than  the  fifty  hands  of  the  fabled  giant,  it 
grasps  at  every  thing  around.  In  its  march  through 
the  world,  it  has  been  accompanied  by  artifice  and 
fraud,  rapine  and  injustice,  cruelty  and  murder; 
while  behind  it  have  dragged  heavily  its  swarm  of 


138  MAMMON. 

victims — humanity  bleeding,  and  justice  in  chains, 
and  religion  expiring  under  its  heavy  burdens,  or- 
phans, and  slaves,  and  oppressed  hirelings,  a  wail- 
ing multitude,  reaching  to  the  skirts  of  the  horizon  ; 
and  thus  dividing  the  earth  between  them,  (for  how 
small  the  number  of  those  who  were  not  to  be  found 
either  triumphing  in  its  van,  or  suffering  in  its  train,) 
it  has,  more  than  .any  other  conqueror,  realized  the 
ambition  of  gaining  the  whole  world,  of  establish- 
ing a  universal  empire.  From  the  first  step  of  its 
desolating  course,  its  victims  began  to  appeal  to 
God ;  and,  as  it  has  gone  on  in  its  guilty  career, 
their  cries  have  been  thickening  and  gathering  in- 
tenseness  at  every  step,  and  in  every  age,  till  the 
whole  creation,  aiding  them  in  their  mighty  grief, 
has  become  vocal  with  wo,  and  their  cries  have  as- 
cended, "  and  entered  into  the  ears  of  the  Lord  of 
Sabbaoth."  "And  shall  I  not  visit  for  these  things, 
saith  the  Lord  ]"  Even  now  his  ministers  of  wrath 
are  arming  against  it.  Even  now  the  sword  of  ulti- 
mate justice  is  receiving  a  keener  edge  for  its  de- 
struction :  it  is  at  large  only  by  respite  and  suffer- 
ance, from  moment  to  moment.  During  each  of 
these  moments,  its  accumulation  of  pelf  is  only  an 
accumulation  "  of  wrath  against  the  day  of  wrath." 
And  when  those  dreadful  stores  shal]  be  finally  dis- 


SECTION    VII.  139 

fcributed  among  the  heirs  of  wrath,  covetousness 
shall  be  loaded  with  the  most  ample  and  awful  por- 
tion. Its  vast  capacity,  enlarged  by  its  perpetual 
craving  after  what  it  had  not,  shall  only  render  it  a 
more  capacious  vessel  of  wrath,  fitted  to  destruc- 
tion. 

From  this  Scriptural  representation  of  the  guilt 
of  covetousness,  let  us  proceed  to  consider  some 
of  the  specific  evils  which  it  inflicts  on  Christians 
individually,  on  the  visible  church,  and,  through 
these,  on  the  world. 

Were  it  our  object  to  present  a  complete  cata- 
logue of  the  injuries  which  it  inflicts  on  religion, 
we  should  begin  by  adverting  to  the  fact,  that  it 
detains  numbers  from  God.  Careful  and  troubled 
about  many  things,  they  entirely  neglect  the  one 
thing  needful.  The  world  retains  them  so  effectu- 
ally in  its  service,  that  they  have  no  time,  no  heart 
to  spare  for  religion;  and  though  some  of  them, 
at  times,  may  cast  a  wistful  glance  in  that  direc- 
tion, and  even  steal  a  visit,  in  thought,  to  the  Sa- 
viour's feet,  yet,  like  their  prototype  in  the  Gospel, 
they  "  go  away  sorrowing,"  for  the  spell  of  Mam- 
mon is  upon  them.  'vv# 

As  to  the  professor  of  Christianity,  the  evil  in 
question  operates  to  his  injury,  partly  by  engaging 


140  MAMMON. 

90  much  of  that  energy  for  the  world,  the  whole 
of  which  would  not  have  been  too  much  for  reli- 
gion. The  obstacles  to  the  salvation  of  a  man  are 
so  numerous  and  formidable,  that  the  Scriptures 
represent  his  ultimate  success  as  depending  on  his 
"  giving  all  diligence  "  to  it.  In  the  economy  of 
salvation,  therefore,  God  graciously  undertakes  to 
watch  over  and  provide  for  his  temporal  wants, 
that,  being  relieved  from  all  distraction  from  that 
quarter,  he  might  be  able  to  bend  and  devote  his 
chief  strength  to  the  attainment  of  heaven.  But, 
in  guilty  counteraction  of  this  arrangement,  the 
covetous  professor  divides  his  forces  between  these 
two  objects  most  disproportionately.  He  has  but 
just  bufficient  fuel  to  offer  up  a  sacrifice  to  God, 
and  yet  he  consumes  the  principal  part  of  it  in  sa- 
crificing to  Mammon.  The  undivided  powers  of 
his  mind  would  not  be  too  much  for  the  claims  of 
religion,  and  yet  he  severs  and  sends  the  greater" 
proportion  of  his  strength  in  an  opposite  direction. 
The  consequence  is,  that  his  piety  is  kept  in  a  low, 
doubtful,  disgraceful  state.  His  religious  course  is 
marked  with  hesitation  and  embarrassment.  The 
cares  of  this  World,  and  the  deceitfulness  of  riches, 
engross  that  feeling  which  is  the  appropriate  soil 
of  religion,  and  which  belongs  to  it  alone.  And  to 


SECTION    VII.  141 

• 

expect  to  reap  the  fruits  of  Christian  benevolence, 
from  such  a  mind,  would  be  to  look  for  grapes 
from  thorns,  and  figs  from  thistles. 

Nor  does  covetousness  operate  less  injuriously 
oy  taking  off  his  supreme  trust  from  God  and  giv 
ing  it  to  the  world.  If  a  staff  be  placed  in  the  hand 
of  a  bent  and  feeble  man,  what  more  natural  than 
that  he  should  lean  on  it  ?  Man  is  that  impotent 
traveller,  and  wealth  is  the  staff  which  offers  to 
support  his  steps.  Hence,  in  the  word  of  God  it 
is  repeatedly  intimated,  that  to  possess  riches,  and 
to  trust  in  them,  is  one  and  the  same  thing,  except 
where  grace  makes  the  distinction.  The  term 
mammon,  for  instance,  according  to  its  derivation, 
imports,  whatever  men  are  apt  to  confide  in.  The 
original  term  for  faith  is  of  the  same  derivation, 
and  for  the  same  reason — because  it  implies  such 
'a  reliance  on  God  as  the  worldly  mind  places  on 
riches.  So  that  mammon  came  to  signify  riches, 
because  men  so  commonly  put  their  trust  on  them. 
And  when  our  Lord  perceived  the  astonishment 
he  had  excited  by  exclaiming,  "  How  hardly  shall 
they  that  have  riches  enter  into  the  kingdom  of 
heaven  1"  the  only  explanation  which  he  gave,  and 
which  he  deemed  sufficient,  imported,  that  as  the 
danger  of  riches  consisted  in  trusting  in  them,  so 


142  MAMMON.' 

the  difficulty  of  possessing  them,  and  not  trusting 
in  them,  is  next  to  an  impossibility — a  difficulty 
which  can  only  be  surmounted  by  omnipotent 
grace. 

Now,  to  trust  in  any  created  object,  is  to  par- 
take of  its  littleness,  mutability,  and  debasement. 
But  money  is  a  creature  of  circumstances,  the 
sport  of  every  wind ;  the  Christian  mammonist, 
therefore,  can  only  resemble  the  object  of  his  trust. 
By  choosing  a  heavenly  treasure,  and  making  it  the 
object  of  paramount  regard,  he  would  have  gra- 
dually received  the  impress  of  its  celestial  attri- 
butes ;  but  by  giving  his  heart  to  earthly  gain,  he 
identifies  himself  with  all.  its  earthly  qualities ;  lets 
himself  down,  and  adapts  himself  to  its  insignifi- 
cance ;  and  vibrates  to  all  its  fluctuations,  as  if  the 
world  were  an  organized  body,  of  which  he  was 
the  pulse. 

The  inconsistencies  in  which  his  covetous  at- 
tachments involve  him,  are  grievous  and  many. 
His  enlightened  judgment  impels  him  for  happi- 
ness in  one  direction,  and  his  earthly  inclinations 
draw  him  in  another.  In  the  morning,  and  at  night, 
probably,  he  prays,  "  Lead  us  not  into  temptation, 
but  deliver  us  from  evil ;"  and  yet,  during  the  in- 
terval, he  pursues,  the  material  of  temptation  with 


SECTION  vir.  143 

an  avidity  not  to  be  exceeded  by  the  keenest  world- 
ling. He  hears,  without  questioning,  our  Lord's 
declaration  concerning  the  danger  of  riches  ;  and 
yet,  though  he  is  already  laden  with  the  thick  clay, 
and  is  daily  augmenting  his  load,  he  doubts  not  of 
passing  through  the  eye  of  the  needle  as  a  matter 
of  course.  He  professes  to  be  only  the  steward  of 
his  property  ;  and  yet  wastes  it  on  himself,  as  if  he 
were  its  irresponsible  master.  He  pretends  to  be 
an  admirer  of  men  who  counted  not  their  lives 
dear  unto  them,  provided  they  might  serve  the 
cause  of  Christ;  and  yet  he  almost  endures  a 
martyrdom  in  sacrificing  a  pittance  of  his  money 
to  that  cause  ;  while  to  give  more  than  that  pit- 
tance, especially  if  it  involved  an  act  of  self-denial, 
is  a  martyrdom  he  never  thought  of  suffering.  He 
prays  for  the  world's  conversion,  and  yet  holds 
back  one  of  the  means  with  which  God  has  in- 
trusted him  "to  aid  that  specific  object.  He  profess- 
es to  have  given  himself  up  voluntarily  and  entirely 
to  Christ ;  and  yet  has  to  be  urged  and  entreated 
to  relinquish  his  hold  on  a  small  sum  which  would 
benefit  the  church.  Indeed,  the  truths  arid  means 
of  salvation  appear  to  have  been  so  designedly  ar- 
ranged by  God  to  condemn  the  covetous  professor, 
that  were  he  not  blinded  by  passion,  and  kept  in 


144  MAMMON. 

countenance  by  so  numerous  a  fellowship,  he 
would  hear  a  rebuke  in  every  profession  he  ut- 
ters, and  meet  with  condemnation  at  every  step 
he  takes. 

Covetousness  frequently  serves  in  the  stead  of  a 
thousand  bonds  to  hold  a  religious  professor  in 
league  with  the  world.  Indeed,  the  sin  may  be 
much  more  potent  in  him  than  in  many  of  the 
avowed  ungodly  around  him.  In  them,  it  has  to  di- 
vide the  heart  with  other  sinful  propensities ;  but 
in  him,  perhaps,  it  reigns  alone.  They  can  range 
and  wander  at  will  over  a  larger  field  of  sinful  in- 
dulgences, but  he  is  restricted  to  this  single  grati- 
fication. As  a  Christian  professor,  he  must  abstain 
from  intemperance,  licentiousness,  and  profanity ; 
but  worldliness  is  a  sphere  in  which  he  may  in- 
dulge to  a  certain  extent  without  suspicion,  for  the 
indulgence  comes  not  within  human  jurisdiction. 
If  he  would  be  thought  a  Christian,  he  must  not  be 
seen  mingling  in  certain  society,  nor  indulging  in 
a  certain  class  of  worldly  amusements ;  but,  with- 
out at  all  endangering  his  Christian  reputation,  he 
may  emulate  the  most  worldly  in  the  embellish- 
ment of  his  house,  the  decoration  of  his  person, 
the  splendour  of  his  equipage,  or  the  luxury  of  his 
table.  Accordingly,  the  only  apparent  difference 


SECTION    VII.  145 

between  bim  and  them,  is — not  in  the  greater  mo- 
deration of  his  earthly  aims,  nor  in  the  superiour 
simplicity  of  his  tastes,  the  spiritual  elevation  of  his 
pursuits,  the  enlarged  benevolence  and  Christian 
devotedness  of  his  life — but,  that  the  time  which 
they  occupy  in  spending,  he  employs  in  accumu- 
lating; the  energies  which  they  waste  in  worldly 
pleasures,  he  exhausts  in  worldly  pursuits*;  the  pro- 
perty which  they  devote  to  amusements  abroad,  he 
lavishes  on  indulgences  at  home ;  and  while  they 
are  pursuing  their  gratification  in  one  direction,  he 
is  indemnifying  himself  for  not  joining  them  by 
pursuing  his  gratification  as  eagerly  in  another, 
The  loss  of  one  of  the  bodily  senses,  it  is  said, 
quickens  the  perception  of  those  that  remain; 
worldliness  alone  remains  to  him,  and  that  is  quick- 
ened and  strengthened  by  perpetual  exercise.  All 
that  is  unsanctified  in  his  nature  flows  from  the 
fountain  of  his  heart  with  the  greater  force,  that  it 
has  only  this  one  channel  in  which  to  run.  He 
may  therefore  be  the  more  worldly  in  reality,  for 
not  dlowing  himself  to  be  worldly  in  appearance. 
His  worldliness  is  only  compressed  into  a  smaller 
compass.  Profess  what  he  may,  and  stand  as  high 
as  he  may  in  the  opinion  of  his  fellow-professors, 
he  is  essentially  a  worldly  man.  The  world  has  its 

Mamuica.  »'' 


1 46  MAMMON. 

sects  as  well  as  the  church,  and  he  may  be  said  to 
belong  to  one  of  the  "  stricter  sects"  of  the  world. 

Covetousness  generates  discontent;  and  this  is 
an  element  with  which  no  Christian  grace  can  long 
be  held  in  affinity.  It  magnifies  trivial  losses,  and 
diminishes  -the  most  magnificent  blessings  to  a 
point ;  it  thinks  highly  of  the  least  sacrifice  which 
1  it  may  grudgingly  make  in  the  cause  of  God,  feels 
no  enterprise  in  his  service,  and  never  considers 
itself  at  liberty  to  leave  its  little  circle  of  decent 
selfishness,  in  which  its  murmurs  on  account  of 
what  it  has  not,  are  always  louder  than  its  thanks 
for  what  it  has.  "  Let  your  conversation,"  there- 
fore, says  the  apostle,  "  be  without  covetousness, 
and  be  content  with  such  things  as  ye  have." 
"  Godliness,  with  contentment,  is  great  gain." 

Covetousness  neutralizes  the  effect  of  the  preach- 
ing of  the  Gospel.  The  Saviour  saw  this  abun- 
dantly verified  in  his  own  ministry ;  and  his  parable 
of  the  sower  intimated,  that  his  ministers  would 
see  it  exemplified  in  theirs  also.  The  judgment  of 
the  hearer,  it  may  be,  is  convinced  of  the  divinity 
of  religion;  he  feels  its  power,  and  trembles;  he  be- 
holds its  attractions,  and  is  captivated.  And  could 
he,  at  such  times,  be  detached  awhile  from  his 
worldly  pursuits,  and  be  closely  plied  with  the 


SECTION    VII.  147 

melting  and  majestic  claims  of  the  Gospel,  he 
might,  by  the  agency  of  the  Holy  Spirit,  be  in- 
duced to  lay  up  for  himself  a  treasure  in  heaven. 
But  the  seed  has  fallen  among  thorns  ;  "  The  cares 
of  this  world,  and  the  deceitfulness  of  riches,  choke 
the  word,  and  render  it  unfruitful."  His  impres- 
sions are  written  in  sand ;  and  no  sooner  does  he 
leave  the  house  of  God,  than  his  worldly  plans  and 
prospects  come  back  like  the  returning  tide,  and 
utterly  efface  them. 

Closely  allied  with  this  evil  are  formality  and 
hypocrisy  in  religion.  "  They  speak  one  to  another, 
every  one  to  his  brother,  saying,  Come,  I  pray 
you,  and  hear  what  is  the  word  that  cometh  forth 
from  the  Lord.  And  they  come  unto  thee  as  the 
people  cometh,  and  they  sit  before  thee  as  my  peo- 
ple, and  they  hear  thy  words,  but  they  will  not  do 
them  :  for  with  their  mouth  they  show  much  love, 
but  their  heart  goeth  after  their  covetousness." 
To  the  eye  of  Omniscience  they  present  the  hate- 
ful spectacle  of  so  many  pieces  of  solemn  formality 
going  through  the  attitudes  and  signs  of  devotion, 
but  destitute  of  all  corresponding  emotions  within. 
He  asks  for  the  heart  alone  ;  but  they  have  brought 
him  all  except  the  heart.  That  is  far  away,  in  the 
mart,  the  field,  the  business  of  the  world,  "  buying 
and  selling,  and  getting  gain." 


148  MAMMON. 

In  connection  with  this  formality  there  will  ne- 
cessarily exist  a  weariness  and  impatience  under 
the  restraints  of  the  Sabbath.  The  worldly  pro- 
fessor feels,  during  the  sacred  hours,  as  if  every 
thing  important  were  standing  still.  He  is  not  sen- 
sible of  any  need  for  a  day  of  rest,  for  the  wrorld 
does  not  tire  him,  or  tires  him  only  as  a  fatiguing 
pleasure,  to  which  he  is  anxious  to  return  with  re- 
newed zest.  And  until  he  can  so  return,  the  lan- 
guage of  his  heart,  in  relation  to  the  Sabbath,  is, 
"  Behold,  what  a  weariness  is  it !" 

But  if  religion  be  irksome  to  a  person  because  it 
interrupts  his  worldly  pursuits,  it  is  but  a  short  and 
easy  step  for  him  to  turn  religion  itself  into  traffic. 
"  Godliness  ...  is  gain  ;"  but  he  reverses  the  pro- 
position, and  "  supposes  that  gain  is  godliness." 
Like  the  ancient  Jews,  he  would  crowd  the  tern 
pie  courts  with  "the  tables  of  the  moneychan- 
gers," and  convert  the  sanctuary  itself  into  the  pa- 
lace of  Mammon.  His  motive  for  assembling  with 
the  worshippers  of  God  may  be  expressed  in  the 
language  of  the  Shechemites,  when  adopting  the 
religious  rites  of  the  sons  of  Jacob :  "  Shall  not 
their  cattle,  and  their  substance,  and  every  beast 
of  theirs,  be  ours  ?"  But,  as  the  ruling  principle  of 
his  conduct  is  gain,  the  same  principle  which  in- 


SECTION    VII.  149 

duced  them  to  assume  religion,  may  lead  him  to 
renounce  it,  and  to  "  draw  back  to  perdition." 

How  many,  who  had  apparently  deserted  the 
service  of  the  world,  and  enrolled  themselves 
among  the  servants  of  God,  does  covetousness 
again  reclaim,  and  swear  them  to  allegiance  afresh* 
"  They  did  run  well,"  but  the  fable  of  Atalanta  be- 
came their  history — a  golden  bait  was  cast  in  their 
path ;  they  stopped  to  take  it,  and  lost  the  race.  In 
how  touching  a  manner  does  the  apostle  refer  to 
the  fatal  declension  of  some — probably  living  cha- 
racters, known  both  to  himself  and  Timothy — and 
impute  their  apostasy  entirely  to  their  avarice. 
"  Money,"  ....  saith  he,  "  which  while  some 
coveted  after,  they  have  erred  from  the  faith,  and 
pierced  themselves  through  with  many  sorrows*" 
And  how  likely  is  it  that  Buriyan  drew  from  per- 
sonal observation,  when,  in  his  inimitable  allegory, 
he  describes  the  professed  pilgrims,  Hold-the- 
world,  Money-love,  Save-all,  and  By-ends — names 
which  still  stand  for  living  realities — as  leaving  the 
load,  at  the  solicitation  of  Demas,  to  look,  at  a  silver 
mine  "  in  a  little  hill  called  Lucre."  "  Now,"  he 
adds,  "  whether  they  fell  into  the  pit  by  looking 
over  the  brink  thereof,  or  whether  they  went  down 
to  dig,  or  whether  they  were  smothered  in  the  bot 


150  MAMMON. 

torn  by  the  damps  that  commonly  arise,  of  these 
things  I  am  not  certain ;  but  this  I  observed,  that 
they  never  were  seen  again  in  the  way." 

But  where  covetousness  does  not  lead  the  pro- 
fessed believer  to  open  apostasy,  it  involves  him 
in  the  guilt  of  idolatry  ;  and  this,  in  the  eye  of  Scrip- 
ture, is  a  step  beyond.  If  the  former  be  the  rejec- 
tion of  the  true  God,  the  latter  is  the  adoption  of 
a  false  one.  Endeavour  to  escape  from  the  charge 
as  he  may,  his  covetousness  is  idolatry.  The  general 
impression  on  hearing  this  proposition  is,  that  the 
term  idolatry  is  only  employed  by  the  apostle  in 
an  accommodated  sense — that  covetousness  is  only 
figurative  idolatry.  But  in  the  figure  lies  its  force. 
There  is  not  more  essential  idolatry,  at  this  mo- 
ment, on  the  face  of  the  earth,  than  that  which  the 
avaricious  man  pays  to  his  gold.  The  ancient  Per- 
sian who  adored  the  sun  only  as  the  visible  image 
of  God,  was  guiltless  of  idolatry  compared  with 
him.  And  the  only  pretence  he  can  have  for  saying 
he  is  not  guilty,  is,  that  he  does  not  perform  acts 
of  bodily  prostration  before  it.  But  acts  of  mere 
formal  homage  are  no  more  necessary  to  constitute 
a  man  a  worshipper  of  mammon,  than  they  are  to 
render  him  a  real  worshipper  of  G  od ;  in  each  in- 
stance, the  homage  of  the  heart  is  in  the  stead  of 


SECTION    VII.  151 

all  outward  prostrations.  And  does  not  his  gold  re- 
ceive that  ]  Is  not  his  heart  a  temple  from  which 
God  has  been  excluded,  in  order  to  make  room  for 
mammon  ]  While  he  worships  God,  formally,  as  if 
he  were  only  an  idol,  does  he  not  accord  to  his  gold 
as  much  cordiality  as  if  it  were  God?  regarding 
it  with  all  those  deep  feelings,  and  mental  glances 
of  confidence,  which  should  be  reserved  for  God 
alone  ]  The  idols  of  the  heathen  stood,  so  to  speak, 
between  heaven  and  earth,  obscuring  the  vision  of 
God,  intercepting,  and  appropriating  the  incense 
which  should  have  ascended  to  the  eternal  throne : 
arid  does  not  his  gold,  instead  of  leading  his 
thoughts  in  gratitude  to  God,  stand  between  him 
and  the  Divine  Being,  concealing  God  from  his 
view,  engrossing  his  thoughts  to  itself,  and  filling 
him  with  that  satisfaction  which  the  soul  should 
find  in  God  alone  1  If  his  gold  could  be  endowed 
with  the  power  of  perception,  would  it  not  be 
tempted  to  think  itself  a  god  ]  If  it  possessed  the 
power  of  reading  his  heart  toward  it,  would  it  not 
find  its  image  enshrined  there  1  and  a  degree  of 
affection  lavished  on  it,  and  a  closeness  of  commu- 
nion maintained  with  it,  such  as  a  god  might  ac- 
cept ]  His  covetousness  is  idolatry.  . 

Among  the  fatal  evils  inflicted  by  covetousness, 


152  MAMMON. 

on  the  church  collectively,  the  corruption  of  its 
doctrines,  and  deterioration  of  its  piety,  form  one 
of  the  greatest  magnitude.  This  it  has  done  in  two 
ways  ;  first,  by  obtruding  men  into  the  sacred  of- 
fice who  have  taught  erroneous  doctrine  as  zeal- 
ously as  if  it  had  been  true ;  and,  secondly,  by 
obtruding  others  who  have  taught  an  orthodox 
creed,  with  which  they  had  no  sympathy,  as  coldly 
and  heartlessly  as  if  it  had  been  false.  The  former 
have  been  founders  of  heretical  sects,  and  propa- 
gators of  a  spurious  piety  ;  the  latter  have  contri- 
buted to  lay  all  piety  to  sleep,  and  to  turn  the 
church  itself  into  the  tomb  of  religion.  The  former 
have  often  prop&teied  falsely,  because  the  people, 
loved  to  have  it  so,  consulting  the  depraved  tastes 
of  those  who  would  not  endure  sound  doctrine  ;  the 
latter  have  consulted  only  their  own  tastes,  which 
sought  no  higher  gratification  than  the  sordid  gains 
of  office.  ."  Wo  unto  them  !  ...  for  they  have  run 
greedily  after  the  error  of  Balaam  for  re  ward. " 
V  A  heart  they  have  exercised  with  covetous  prac- 
tices; cursed  children,  .  .  .  following  the  way  of 
Balaam,  the  son  of  Bosor,  who  loved  the  wages  of 
unrighteousness."  Like  him,  both  have  equally, 
and  for  the  same  reasons,  laboured  in  effect  to 
"  curse  the  children  of  Israel."  Like  the  Pharisees 


SECTION    VII.  153 

of  old,  both  have  equally,  and  for  the  same  rea- 
sons, *c  made  long  prayers  "  their  pretence,  but 
the  "  devouring  of  widows'  houses "  their  end. 
Like  Judas,  both  have  equally,  and  for  the  same 
reasons,  betrayed  the  Son  of  God  into  the  hands 
of  his  enemies.  Like  Simon  Magus,  both  have 
trafficked  in  the  things  of  God.  Both  alike  have 
been  "greedy  of  filthy  lucre ;"  have  obtruded  into 
the  courts  of  the  Lord  ;  taken  up  a  position  be- 
tween God  and  man ;  and,  through  covetousness, 
have  made  merchandise  of  human  souls.  They 
have  brought  the  world  into  the  church  ;  and  have 
sold  the  church  to  the  world.  This  is  the  triumph, 
the  apotheosis  of  Mammon.  Piety  has  left  the 
temple,  weeping  at  the  sight ;  morality  itself  has 
been  loud  in  its  condemnation ;  an  ungodly  world 
has  triumphed,  and  "  the  Son  of  God  been  cruci- 
fied afresh,  and  put  ta  an  open  shame."  "  Wo 
unto  them  !" 

The  magnitude  of  this  evil  is  further  apparent 
in  the  fact,  that  it  has  not  only  threatened  to  frus- 
trate the  design  of  the  Christian  church,  as  the  in- 
strument of  the  world's  conversion,  but  has  done 
more  than  any  other  sin  towards  the  fulfillment  of 
the  threat.  That  our  blessed  Lord  consecrated  his 
church  to  the  high  office  of  converting  the  world, 


154  MAMMON. 

is  evident  from  the  final  command  which  he  gave 
it,  to  go  and  preach  his  Gospel  to  every  creature. 
That  the  execution  of  this  sacred  trust  would  be 
endangered,  principally,  by  a  spirit  of  covetous- 
ness,  was  possibly  pre-signified  by  the  sin  of  Ju- 
das. But  a  more  emphatic  intimation  of  the  same 
danger  had  been  given  in  the  history  of  the  Jew- 
ish church  ;  for,  \hejirst  sin  of  that  church,  in  Ca- 
naan, as  we  have  remarked  already,  was  in  the  ac- 
cursed tiling,  when  Israel  fled  before  the  men  of 
Ai.  And  was  there  not  a  still  more  significant  in- 
timation afforded,  in  the  earliest  days  of  the  chris- 
tian  church,  of  danger  from  the  same  quarter  1  its 
veryftrst  sin  consisted  in  one  of  its  members  keep- 
ing back  part  of  Ms  property  through  covetousness. 
Whether  or  not  these  intimations  were  necessary, 
we  will  leave  the  history  of  the  subsequent  cor- 
ruptions of  Christianity  to  testify. 

But  even  since  the  church  ceased  to  be  the  vor- 
tex of  the  world's  wealth,  since  the  period  ceased 
when  it  gloried  to  repeat  the  Laodicean  boast,  <f  I 
am  rich,  and  increased  in  goods,  and  have  need  of 
nothing," — has  benevolence  been  one  of  its  charac 
teristics  1  The  unrepealed  command  of  Christ  has 
been  known  to  its  members ;  they  have  had  the 
means  of  carrying  it  extensively  into  effect ;  mil 


SECTION    VII.  155 

lions  of  their  fellow-creatures  have  been  passing 
into  eternity,  age  after  age,  unsaved ;  but  their  ta- 
lent, meanwhile,  if  not  hid  in  a  napkin,  has  been 
multiplied  chiefly  for  their  own  use.  Their  world- 
ly prosperity  has  so  completely  engrossed  them, 
that  they  have  thought  it  quite  sufficient  to  attend 
to  their  own  salvation,  while  the  world  around 
them  has  been  left  to  perish.  ,M*".;- 

If  this  be  innocence,  what  is  guilt  ]  If  this  be 
venial  negligence,  what  is  aggravated  criminality  ? 
It  is  a  sin  whose  guilt  exceeds  all  computation. 
Let  it  be  supposed  that  at  some  past  period  in  the 
history  of  Britain,  news  had  arrived  of  an  awful 
visitation  of  nature,  by  which  one  of  her  distant 
colonies  is  in  a  state  of  famine.  Multitudes  have 
died,  numbers  are  dying,  all  are  approaching  the 
point  of  starvation.  Besides  which,  a  powerful  ene- 
my is  gathering  on  their  frontiers,  and  threatening 
to  hasten  the  work  of  death.  The  government  at 
home  opens  its  stores ;  public  charity  bursts  forth, 
and  pours  relief  through  a  thousand  channels.  A 
fleet  is  freighted  with  the  precious  means  of  life, 
and  despatched  to  the  scene  of  suffering,  wafted  by 
the  sighs  and  prayers  of  the  nation.  For  a  time  it 
steers  direct  for  its  object.  But,  having  lost  sight 
of  land,  the  ardour  of  those  employed  abates. 


156  MAMMON. 

Though  engaged  in  a  commission  which  angels 
might  envy,  their  impressions  of  its  importance 
fade  from  their  minds.  A  group  of  islands  lies  in 
their  course,  and,  though  far  short  of  their  destina- 
tion, they  decide  to  call.  Prospects  of  mercantile 
advantage  here  present  themselves ;  the  spirit  of 
gain  takes  possession  of  them  ;  they  are  inclined, 
solicited,  prevailed  on,  to  remain.  Their  original 
object  of  mercy  is  forgotten  ;  the  stores  of  life  with 
which  they  had  been  intrusted  are  used  and  bar- 
tered as  if  intended  only  for  themselves ;  and  thus 
an  enterprise  of  beneficence  on  which  God  had 
smiled,  sinks  into  a  base  mercantile  adventure. 

"  But  the  supposition  is  impossible  ;  if  any  thing 
in  the  least  resembling  it  had  ever  transpired,  hu- 
manity would  have  wept  at  it, — religion  would 
have  turned  from  the  tale  with  horror;  it  would 
have  been  viewed  as  an  ineffaceable  stain  on  our 
national  character,  at  which  every  cheek  would 
have  blushed  and  burned."  Impossible,  in  the 
sense  supposed  ;  but  in  a  higher  sense  it  has  been 
realized,  and  far,  far  exceeded.  The  world  was 
perishing ;  the  compassion  of  God  was  moved ; 
the  means  of  salvation  were  provided — and  O  !  at 
how  costly  a  price ! — the  church  was  charged  to 
convey  them  without  delay  to  her  dying  fellow- 


SECTION    VII.  157 

men,  and  to  pause  not  in  her  office  of  mercy  till 
the  last  sinner  had  enjoyed  the  means  of  recovery. 
For  a  time  the  godlike  trust  was  faithfully  execu- 
ted "An  angel  flying  through  the  midst  of  hea- 
ven," was  an  apt  representation  of  the  directness 
and  speed  with  which  the  church  prosecuted  her 
task.  Jesus  beheld  the  travail  of  his  soul,  and  was 
satisfied.  Souls  were  snatched  as  brands  from  the 
burning.  But  a  change  came  over  her  conduct. 
The  spirit  of  the  world  returned  and  cast  a  spell 
on  her  movements.  Continents  were  yet  to  be  vi- 
sited, and  millions  to  be  rescued,  when  she  paused 
in  her  onward  course.  Immortal  men  continued 
to  perish  by  nations ;  but  the  agents  of  mercy  had 
abandoned  their  work.  As  if  the  stores  of  life,  with 
which  they  were  intrusted,  had  been  intended 
soldy  for  their  own  use,  they  began  to  live  unto 
themselves.  An  enterprise  of  mercy,  in  which  God 
had  embarked  his  highest  glory,  and  which  in- 
volved the  happiness  of  the  world,  was  arrested, 
and  lost  to  myriads  by  a  spirit  of  worldly  gain. 
For,  if,  at  any  given  period  after  the  first  age  of 
the  Christian  church,  the  professed  agents  of  mercy 
had  been  sought  for,  how  would  the  great  majo- 
rity of  them  been  found  occupied  and  engrossed, 
but  in  "  buying,  and  selling,  and  getting  gain  ]" 


158  MAMMON. 

"  Each  one,"  says  Cyprian,  as  early  as  the  middle 
of  the  third  century,  "  each  one  studies  how  to 
increase  his  patrimony  ;  and  forgetting  what  the 
faithful  did  in  apostolic  times,  or  what  they  ough 
always  to  do,  their  great  passion  is  an  insatiable 
desire  of  enlarging  their  fortunes." 

This,  however,  is  not  the  extent  of  the  evft 
which  covetousness  inflicts  on  the  cause  of  humar 
happiness.  It  has  not  only  rendered  the  majority 
of  professed  believers  useless  to  the  church,  and 
the  church  for  ages  useless  to  the  world ;  but 
through  these  it  has  held  the  world  in  firmer  bonds 
of  allegiance  to  sin  than  would  otherwise  have 
existed. 

Your  devctedness  to  the  world,  we  would  say  to 
the  Christian  mammonist,  tends,  more  than  any  of 
the  arguments  of  infidelity,  to  confirm  men  in  their 
insensibility  to  the  claims  of  the  Gospel.  That 
Gospel  found  you,  we  will  suppose,  in  close  world- 
ly alliance  with  themselves  ;  worshippers  together 
in  the  temple  of  mammon ;  running  the  same  race 
for  the  prize  of  wealth  ;  having  no  aims  or  desires 
but  such  as  wealth  could  gratify  ;  and,  consequent- 
ly, bending  all  your  endeavours  after  it.  Subse- 
quently, however,  you  profess  to  have  undergone 
a  change  j  and,  when  they  hear  you  describe  the 


SECTION    VII.  159 

nature  of  that  change,  or  near  it  described  for  you, 
they  hear  it  said  that  you  have  at  length  found  the 
pearl  of  great  price  ;  that  you  have  been  put  in 
possession  of  a  good  which  renders  you  independ- 
ent of  all  inferior  things,  and  which  enables  you 
to  look  down  with  scorn  on  those  objects  about 
which  you  have  been  so  eager  and  selfish,  abandon 
ing  them  to  such  as  know  no  higher  good ;  that; 
henceforth,  your  treasure  is  in  heaven,  and  there 
will  your  heart  be  also. 

They  hear  this,  and  are  amazed  !  They  have 
not  been  able  to  detect  the  slightest  abatement  in 
the  ardour  of  your  worldly  pursuits.  They  find  you 
still  among  their  keenest  competitors  in  the  race  of 
wealth.  What  new  object  of  affection  you  may  have 
adopted,  they  know  not ;  but  they  will  readily  ac- 
quit you  of  all  ingratitude  to  your  first  love  ;  for 
they  can  testify  that  your  pulse  does  not  beat  less 
truly  to  its  smiles  ajid  its  frowns  than  it  did  when 
you  knew  no  other  object  of  regard.  Whatever 
object  you  may  trust  more,  they  know  not ;  but  this 
they  can  witness,  that,  judging  from  your  conduct, 
you  do  not  trust  money  less  ;  and,  were  it  not  that 
you  say  so,  they  would  not  have  known  that  your 
eye  was  fixed  on  any  invisible  dependence.  And 
when,  besides  this,  they  hear  you  admonished  for 


160  MAMMON. 

your  worldliness,  and  reproached  with  the  tenacity 
of  your  grasp  on  wealth,  and  denounced  for  your 
devotion  to  self  and  your  want  of  devotion  to  the 
cause  of  your  new  adoption,  how  can  they  be  other- 
wise than  confirmed  in  their  opinion  that  your  pro- 
fession is  hypocrisy,  and  all  religion  only  a  name  1 
And  the  effect  is,  to  deepen  the  sleep  into  which 
"they  have  sunk  in  the  arms  of  the  world. 

We  all  know  the  persuasive  power  which  the 
example  of  the  martyrs  and  early  confessors  of  the 
cross  exercised  on  those  who  beheld  it.  Their  en- 
tire dedication  of  their  property  and  lives  to  the 
cause  of  Christ  struck  at  the  very  throne  of  Mam- 
mon. Numbers  awoke  as  from  a  dream  ;  for  the 
first  time  suspected  the  omnipotence  of  wealth,  and 
were  seized  with  a  noble  disdain  of  it.  They  saw 
men  advancing  with  the  standard  of  a  new  king- 
dom ;  the  sincerity  of  those  men  they  could  not 
doubt,  for  they  beheld  them  in  their  onward  course, 
sacrificing  their  worldly  prospects,  trampling  on 
their  wealth,  and  smiling  on  confronting  death. 
The  contagion  of  their  example  they  could  not  re- 
sist ;  they  fell  into  their  train,  and  enrolled  them- 
selves as  their  fellow-subjects.  But  will  not  your 
opposite  example,  coinciding  as  its  worldly  influ- 
ence does  with  the  natural  propensities  of  men, 


SECTION    VII.  161 

operate  far  more  powerfully  in  detaining  men  from 
Christ  ?  Has  your  conduct  ever  allured  them  to 
revolt  from  the  world  to  Christ  1  Is  it  not  more 
likely  to  seduce  them  from  Christ,  than  to  win  them 
to  him  ?  And  is  this  thy  kindness  to  thy  friend  1 
Has  He  who  died  for  you  deserved  this  at  your 
hands  1  He  intended  that,  by  the  evident  subordi- 
nation of  your  property  to  Mm,  you  should  proclaim 
to  the  world  your  conviction  of  his  divine  superi- 
ority, and  thus  aim  to  increase  the  number  of  his 
subjects ;  whereas  your  evident  attachment  to  it, 
tells  them  there  is  a  rival  interest  in  your  heart, 
weakens  their  conviction  of  your  religious  sincerity, 
and  thus  renders  your  wealth  subservient  to  the 
empire  of  Satan. 

"  The  wicked  blesseth  the  covetous,  whom  the 
Lord  abhorreth."  In  order  that  you  may  see  the 
guilt  of  your  conduct  in  its  true  light,  reflect,  that 
the  inordinate  love  of  wealth,  by  disparaging  and 
forsaking  the  only  true  standard  of  excellence,  has 
introduced  an  irreconcilable  variance  between  the 
divine  and  the  human  estimate  of  every  thing  pos- 
sessing a  moral  quality ;  and  that  you,  who  ought 
to  be  giving  your  voice  for  God  against  the  world, 
are  virtually  siding  with  the  world  against  him,  and 

Mammon.  ** 


162  MAMMON. 

acquitting  and  applauding  the  man  whom  the  Lord 
condemns. 

The  determinate  influence  of  money,  we  say, 
appears  in  this — that  it  comes  at  length  to  erect  a 
new  standard  of  judgment,  to  give  laws,  and  to 
found  an  empire,  in  contradistinction  from  the  di 
vine  empire.  The  law  of  God  proclaims,  "  Thou 
shalt  not  covet ;"  but  in  the  kingdom  of  Mammon 
this  law  is  virtually  repealed,  and  it  is  made  lawful 
for  all  his  subjects  to  covet,  provided  only  they 
covet  according  to  rule — submit  to  a  few  easy  con- 
ventional regulations.  They  possess  a  code  of  their 
own,  by  which  a  thousand  actions  are  made  legal, 
and  have  become  familiar,  though  at  evident  vari- 
ance with  the  divine  code.  The  authorities  they 
plead,  are  such  as  custom,  convenience,  example,  uti- 
lity, expedience  ;  "  Yet  their  posterity  approve  their 
sayings."  And  their  highest  sanctions  are,  the  fear 
of  loss,  and  the  hope  of  gain  ;  for  "  God  is  not  in 
all  their  thoughts."  In  his  kingdom,  the  safety  of 
the  soul  is  placed  above  all  other  considerations  ;  in 
theirs,  it  is  treated  as  an  impertinence,  and  expelled 
In  their  language  wealth  means  wisdom,  worth, 
happiness ;  while  the  explanation  which  he  gives 
of  it  is  temptation,  vanity,  danger.  He  denomi- 
nates only  the  good  man,  wise  ;  while  the  steadfast 


SECTION    VII.  163 

and  admiring  gaze  which  they  fasten  on  the  rich, 
proclaims  that,  in  their  estimation,  wealth  is  in  the 
stead  of  all  other  recommendations,  or  rather  an 
abstract  of  them  all.  And,  at  the  very  moment 
when  God  is  pronouncing  the  doom  of  the  covetous, 
and  commanding  hell  to  enlarge  itself  for  his  recep- 
tion, they,  in  defiance  of  the  divine  decision,  are 
proud  to  catch  his  smiles,  and  to  offer  incense  at 
his  shrine.  "  The  wicked  blesseth  the  covetous, 
whom  the  Lord  abhorreth." 

Thus,  if  sin  has  produced  a  revolution  in  this 
part  of  the  divine  dominions,  it  seems  to  have  been 
the  effect  of  wealth  to  give  to  that  revolution  the 
consolidation  of  a  well-organized  empire.  Alas  ! 
how  complete  its  arrangements,  how  stable  and  in- 
vincible its  power.  It  has  enacted  new  laws  for 
human  conduct,  given  new  objects  to  human  ambi- 
tion, and  new  classifications  to  human  character 
and  society  ; — the  whole  resulting  in  a  kingdom  in 
which  the  divine  authority  is  unacknowledged,  and 
from  which  every  memento  of  the  divine  presence 
is  jealously  excluded. 

Now,  one  of  the  leading  purposes  of  God  in  in- 
stituting a  church,  is,  that,  in  the  midst  of  this  awful 
confederation  of  evil,  he  might  have  a  people  per- 
petually protesting  against  the  prevailing  apostasy 


164  MAMMON. 

For  this  purpose,  he  gives  them  himself,  that,  by 
admitting  them  to  the  Fountain,  he  might  raise 
them,  before  the  eyes  of  the  world,  to  an  independ- 
eace  of  the  streams.  And,  for  the  same  purpose, 
ne  gives  them  a  portion  of  earthly  property,  of  that 
common  object  of  worldly  trust,  that  they  might 
have  an  opportunity  of  disparaging  it  before  the 
world,  by  subordinating  it  to  spiritual  ends,  and 
ihus  publicly  vindicating  the  outraged  supremacy 
of  the  blessed  God. 

How  momentous  the  issue,  then,  depending  on 
the  manner  in  which  Christians  employ  their  pro- 
perty. By  their  visible  subordination  of  it  to  God, 
they  would  be  "  condemning  the  world/'  and  put- 
ting a  lasting  disgrace  upon  its  idol ;  they  would 
be  distinguishing  themselves  from  the  world  more 
effectually  than  by  assuming  the  most  marked 
badge,  or  by  making  the  most  ostentatious  profes- 
sion ;  they  would.be  employing  the  only  argument 
for  the  reality  of  religion  which  the  world  generally 
will  regard,  which  it  cannot  resist,  and  which  would 
serve  in  the  stead  of  all  other  arguments.  Many 
things  there  are  which  the  world  can  part  with ; 
many  sacrifices  which  it  can  make  in  imitation  of 
the  Christian ;  but  to  "  esteem  the  reproach  of 
Christ  greater  riches  than  all  the  treasures  of 


SECTION    VII.  165 

Egypt/'  to  sacrifice  wealth,  is  an  immolation,  a  mi- 
racle of  devotedness,  which  no  aits  of  worldly  en- 
chantment can  imitate.  They  can  understand  how 
religion  may  be  subordinated  to  gain  ;  but  that  gain 
should  be  sacrificed  to  God,  is  a  mystery  which  no 
article  in  their  creed,  no  principle  in  their  philoso- 
phy can  explain.  O,  had.  the  Christian  church  been 
true  to  its  original  design,  had  its  members  realized 
the  purposes  of  its  heavenly  Founder,  they  would 
have  chained  the  idol,  Wealth,  to  the  chariot  of 
the  Gospel,  and  have  led  it  in  triumph  through 
the  world  ! 

But  of  how  large  a  proportion  of  professing 
Christians  may  it  be  alleged,  that,  as  far  as  the 
church  was  intended  to  answer  this  end,  they  have 
conspired  to  frustrate  the  design  of  its  institution. 
Their  property,  which  was  meant  to  furnish  them 
with  the  means  of  deprecating  and  denouncing  the 
wealth-idolatry  of  the  world,  they  have  turned  into 
an  occasion  of  joining  and  strengthening  the  en- 
dangered cause  of  the  world.  Their  conduct  in  re- 
lation to  the  gains  of  earth,  which  was  intended  to 
be  such  as  to  attract  the  notice  and  awaken  the  in- 
quiries of  mankind,  has  been  the  very  point  on 
which  they  have  symbolized  with  the  world  more 
cordially  than  on  any  other — standing  on  the  same 


166  MAMMON. 

ground,  pursuing  the  same  ends,  governing  them- 
selves by  the  same  maxims.  By  virtually  falling 
down  before  the  golden  image  which  the  world  has 
set  up,  they  have  thrown  opprobrium  on  the  volun- 
tary poverty  of  Christ,  obscured  the  distinctive 
spirituality  of  his  kingdom,  brought  into  question 
the  very  reality  of  his  religion,  and  confirmed  and 
prolonged  the  reign  of  Mammon.  The  man  who 
deserts  his  post  in  the  day  of  battle,  and  goes  over 
to  the  enemy,  is  consigned,  by  universal  consent, 
to  infamy  of  the  deepest  die ;  but  they,  by  paying 
homage  to  wealth,  have  betrayed  a  cause  which  in- 
volves infinite  results,  have  deserted  their  standard 
in  the  time  of  conflict,  joined  hands  with  the  com- 
mon foe,  and  thus  lent  themselves  to  reinforce  and 
establish  the  dominion  of  sin. 


SECTION  VIII. 

The  Doom  of  Covetousness* 

If  the  guilt  of  covetousness  be  so  enormous,  can 
we  wonder  at  the  variety  of  methods  by  which  a 


SECTION    VIII.  167 

gracious  God  seeks  to  prevent  it  1  or  at  the  solemn 
threatenings  which  a  holy  God  denounces  against 
it  ]  The  description  of  the  sin  which  we  have  al- 
ready given,  so  evidently  involves  its  condemna- 
tion, that  on  this  part  of  the  subject  we  shall  be 
comparatively  brief. 

The  extreme  punishment  which  awaits  the  prac- 
tice of  covetousness  may  be  inferred  from  the  cir- 
cumstance that  the  tenth  command  dettounces  the 
sin  in  its  earliest  form.  Unlike  the  other  commands, 
which,  taken  literally,  only  prescribe  for  the  out- 
ward conduct,  this  speaks  to  the  heart.  It  does  not 
merely  speak  to  the  eye,  and  say,  thou  sJialt  not 
look  covetously.  It  does  not  merely  speak  to  the 
hand,  and  say,  thou  shalt  not  grasp  covetously  ;  thou 
shalt  not  steal :  the  law  had  said  this  before.  But, 
instead  of  waiting  for  the  eye  and  the  hand  to  do 
this,  it  goes  in  to  the  heart — "  for  out  of  the  heart 
proceedeth  covetousness  " — and  it  says  to  the  heart, 
"  thou  shalt  not  covet.'*  And  hence  saith  the  apos- 
tle, "  I  had  not  known  the  sinfulness  of  inordinate 
desire  if  the  law  had  not  said,  Thou  shalt  not  cov- 
et "  It  lays  its  fiery  finger  upon  the" first  movement 
Df  covetousness,  and  brands  it  as  a  sin. 

Covetousness  is  a  sin  which,  more  than  most 
vices,  b'ings  with  it  its  own  punishment.  The  very 


168  MAMMON. 

*&*'• 

objects  which  excite  it,  form  a  rod  for  its  chastise- 
ment. How  perpetually  and  solicitously  is  God  re- 
minding us  that  the  pursuit  of  these  objects  is  at- 
tended with  corroding  anxiety  and  exhausting  toil ; 
that  they  are  filthy  lucre — leading  through  miry 
ways  to  reach  them,  and  polluting  the  hand  that 
touches  them ;  that  they  are  uncertain  riches — al- 
ways winged  for  flight* — so  delusive  and  unsub- 
stantial that  they  are  not,  they  are  only  the  mirage 
of  the  world's  desert;  that  they  are  unsatisfacto- 
ry— "  for  he  that  loveth  silver  shall  not  be  satisfied 
with  silver,  nor  he  that  loveth  abundance  with  in- 
crease ;"  that  the  possession  of  them  is  often  at 
tended  with  mortification,  and  a  separation  from 
them  with  anguish ;  in  a  word,  that  they  are  dan- 
gerous and  destructive,  leading  men  "  into  temp- 
tation and  a  snare,  and  piercing  them  through  with 
many  sorrows;"  and  thus,  in  their  very  nature, 
they  bring  with  them  a  part  of  the  doom  of  those 
who  covet  them.  Like  the  deadly  reptile  armed 
with  a  warning  rattle,  they  are  so  constituted  as  to 

*  Thus  the  Greeks  spoke  of  Plutus,  the  god  of  riches,  as 
a  fickle  divinity ;  representing  him  as  blind,  to  intimate  that 
he  distributes  his  favours  indiscriminately ;  as  lame,  to  de- 
note the  slowness  with  which  he  approaches ;  and  winged, 
to  imply  the  velocity  with  which  he  flies  away. 


SECTION    VIII.  169 

apprise  us  of  the  danger  of  too  close  an  approach. 
They  all  seem  to  say,  as  we  put  forth  our  hand  to 
take  them,  "  Do  not  covet  me — do  not  take  me  to 
your  heart,  or  I  shall  certainly  disappoint,  and  in- 
jure, if  not  ruin  you."  Were  all  the  property  which 
has  ever  passed  through  the  hands  of  men  still  in 
existence,  and  could  we  hear  it  relate  the  history 
of  those  who  have  possessed  it,  what  tales  of  toil, 
anxiety,  and  guilt,  of  heartless  treachery,  and  fiend- 
ish circumvention,  of  consciences  seared,  and  souls 
lost,  and  hell  begun  on  this  side  death,  would  it 
have  to  unfold  !  Might  we  not  well  recoil  from  it, 
and  exclaim,  "  Give  me  neither  poverty  nor  riches, 
but  feed  me  with  food  convenient  for  me — give  us 
this  day  our  daily  bread." 

But  in  addition  to  the  punishment  which  the  sin 
involves  in  its  own  nature,  God  has  often  visited  it 
with  a  positive  infliction.  Instances  of  this  fact  have 
already  passed  in  review  before  us.  Whether  we 
advert  to  the  losses  and  sufferings  of  Lot,  the  ston- 
ing of  Achan,  the  leprosy  of  Gehazi,  or  the  fate  of 
Judas,  the  secret  of  their  punishment  is  explained 
when  the  Almighty  declares,  "  For  the  iniquity  of 
his  covetousness  was  I  wroth,  and  smote  him," 
And  what  do  we  behold  in  every  such  infliction  but 
.an  earnest  of  its  coming  doom  1  the  scintillations* 


170  MAMMON. 

of  that  wrath,  the  flashes  of  that  distant  fire  which 
is  kindled  already  to  consume  it  ? 

Arid  not  only  has  he  punished  it ;  he  is  visiting 
and  denouncing  it  at  the  present  moment.  "  Wo  to 
him  that  coveteth  an  evil  covetousness  to  his  house, 
that  he  may  set  his  nest  on  high,  that  he  may  be 
delivered  from  the  power  of  evil !  Thou  hast  con* 
suited  shame  to  thy  house  by  cutting  off  many  peo- 
ple, and  hast  sinned  against  thy  soul.  For  the  stone 
shall  cry  out  of  the  wall,  and  the  beam  out  of  the 
timber  shall  answer  it."  The  very  house  which  he 
has  built  for  his  security  shall  reproach  him  for  the 
grasping  injustice  of  the  means  by  which  it  was 
reared.  Mysterious  voices  from  every  part  of  it 
shall  upbraid  and  threaten  him  for  having  pursued 
the  gains  of  this  world  to  the  neglect  of  his  im- 
mortal soul.  It  shall  be  haunted  by  the  fearful 
spectre  of  his  own  guilty  conscience  ;  it  shall  be  the 
prison-house  of  justice  till  he  is  called  to  the  bar 
of  God  ;  instead  of  defending  him  from  evil,  it  shall 
seem  to  attract  and  receive  all  dreadful  things  to 
alarm  and  punish  him. 

The  law  of  God  is  still  in  the  act  of  condemning 
covetousness.  The  fires  of  Sinai,  indeed,  have 
ceased  to  burn,  and  its  thunders  have  ceased  to  ut- 
ter their  voices,  but  that  law,  in  honour  of  which 


SECTION    VIII.  171 

these  terrors  appeared,  is  in  force  still ;  that  law 
which  said,  "  Thou  shalt  not  covet,"  is  burning  and 
thundering  against  covetousness  still.  It  has  been 
re-published  under  the  Gospel  with  additional  sanc- 
tions ;  it  is  written  by  the  finger  of  the  Spirit  on 
the  fleshly  tables  of  every  renewed  heart ;  it  is  in- 
scribed by  Providence  on  every  object  of  human 
desire,  to  warn  us  of  danger  as  often  as  our  eye 
rests  on  them.  And  if,  heedless  of  that  warning, 
we  yet  pursue  those  objects  to  excess,  and  put  forth 
our  hand  to  take  them — if  then  the  terrors  of  an- 
other Sinai  do  not  kindle  and  flash  forth  upon  us, 
it  is  not  that  the  law  has  lost  its  force,  but  that  it  is 
reserving  itself  for  another  day.  Lost  its  force  ! — 
It  is  at  this  moment  making  inquisition  in  every 
human  heart,  and  if  there  be  but  one  feeling  of  in- 
ordinate worldly  desire  there,  it  takes  cognizance 
of  it,  and  denounces  against  it  the  wrath  of  God. 
Lost  its  force  !  It  is  daily  following  the  covetous 
through  the  world,  tracking  them  through  all  the 
windings  of  their  devious  course,  chasing  them  out 
oj  the  world,  pursuing  them  down  to  their  own 
place,  and  kindling  around  them  there  fires  such  as 
Sinai  never  saw. 

"  The  wicked  blesseth  the  covetous,  whom  the 
Lord  abhorreth."    Nobonly  does  the  law  condemn 


172  MAMMON. 

/ 

him,  but  God  abhors  7am  ;  and  how  hateful  must 
that  sin  be  which,  in  any  sense,  compels  the  God 
of  mercy  to  hate  the  creatures  which  he  himself 
has  made,  to  loathe  the  work  of  his  own  hands  ! 
Yet  covetousness  does  this.  And  it  is  important  to 
remark  that  the  covetousness  against  which  the 
Scriptures  launch  their  most  terrible  anathemas  is 
not  of  the  scandalous  kind,  but  such  as  may  escape 
the  censures  of  the  church,  arid  even  receive  the 
commendations  of  the  world;  leaving  us  to  draw 
the  inevitable  conclusion,  that  if  the  milder  forms 
of  the  sin  be  punished,  its  grosser  degrees  have 
every  thing  to  fear.  Here,  for  example,  is  a  cove- 
tous man  of  whom  the  wicked  speak  well — a  proof 
that  he  is  not  rapacious  or  avaricious,  for  a  person 
of  such  a  stamp  is  commended  by  none — and  yet 
God  abhors  him.  And  who  can  conceive  the  mi- 
sery of  being  abhorred  by  the  blessed  God  !  How 
large  a  proportion  of  the  suffering  which  the  world 
at  present  contains  might  be  traced  to  God's  detes- 
tation of  this  sin ;  and,  probably,  since  the  guilt  of 
the  sin  goes  on  rapidly  increasing  with  every  pass- 
ing year,  the  punishment  of  it  in  this  world  will  go 
on  increasing  also.  How  large  a  proportion  of  the 
misery  of  hell  at  this  moment,  points  to  this  sin  as 
its  origin !  And  how  rapidly,  it  is  to  be  feared, 


SECTION   VIII.  173 

does  that  numerous  class  of  the  lost  go  on  aug- 
menting, of  which  the  rich  man  in  the  parable 
forms  the  appalling  type  ! 

But,  "behold,  another  wo  cometh  !"  Another 
sea",  is  yet  to  be  opened,  and  Death  will  be  seen, 
with  Hell  following  7dm.  It  is  of  one  of  the  classes 
of  the  covetous  especially  that  the  apostle  Peter 
declares,  "  their  judgment  now  of  a  long  time  lin- 
gereth  not,  and  their  damnation  slumbereth  not." 
The  angel  charged  with  their  destruction  is  on  the 
wing,  and  is  hourly  drawing  nearer.  And  the  apos- 
tle James,  addressing  the  covetous  of  his  day,  ex- 
claimed, in  reference  to  the  approaching  destruction 
of  the  Jewish  state,  "  Come  now,  ye  rich  men,\ 
weep  and  howl  over  the  miseries  that  are  coming 
upon  you.  Your  riches  are  corrupted,  and  your 
garments  are  moth-eaten.  Your  gold  and  silver  are 
cankered,  and  their  rust  shall  be  a  witness  against 
you,  and  shall  eat  into  your  flesh  as  fire  :  ye  have 
laid  up  treasures  for  the  last  days."  But  if  tem- 
poral calamities  called  for  such  an  intense  agony  of 
grief,  such  a  convocation  of  tears,  and  groans,  and 
lamentations ;  where  is  the  form  of  sorrow  equal  to 
the  doom  wlr.th  awaits  the  covetous  in  the  last 
day  ! — where  are  the  tears  fit  to  be  shed  in  that 
how  wVtn  fa*  tarnish  of  that  gold  and  silver  which 


174  MAMMON, 

ought  to  have  been  kept  bright  by  a  generous  cir- 
culation, shall  testify  against  them,  and,  like  caustic, 
shall  corrode  and  burn  them  ! — and  when,  however 
much  they  may  have  suffered  for  their  covetousness 
on  earth,  they  shall  find  that  they  were  only  receiv- 
ing the  interest  of  the  wrath  they  had  laid  up,  that 
the  principal  has  gone  on  daily  accumulating ;  that 
they  have  been  treasuring  up  wrath  against  the  day 
of  wrath,  till  the  dreadful  store  has  overflowed. 

The  covetous  will  then  find  themselves  placed 
"  on  the  left  hand  of  the  Judge."  And  he  will  say 
unto  them,  "  I  was  hungry,  and  ye  gave  me  no 
meat :  I  was  thirsty,  and  ye  gave  me  no  drink  :  I 
was  a  stranger,  and  ye  took  me  not  in  :  naked,  and 
ye  clothed  me  not :  sick,  and  in  prison,  and  ye  vi- 
sited me  not."  Then  practical  benevolence,  as  the 
result  of  evangelical  piety,  is  the  hinge  on  which 
our  final  destiny  will  turn  !  This  language  contains 
a  rule  of  judgment,  which,  in  the  hands  of  Christ, 
is  capable  of  receiving  universal  application.  It 
obviously  implies  that  he  has  a  cause  in  the  world — 
the  cause  of  human  salvation ;  and  that  all  who  do 
not  practically  attach  themselves  to  it,  deny  them- 
selves on  account  of  it,  love  those  who  belong  to  it, 
and  supremely  value  him  who  is  the  Divine  Author 
of  it,  will  be  finally  disowned  and  condemned. 


SECTION    Vftl.  175 

And  here  again  it  is  important  to  remark,  that 
the  covetousness  which  is  threatened  to  be  placed 
at  the  left  hand  of  the  Judge,  is  not  of  the  scanda- 
lous kind.  Had  not  the  Judge  himself  described  it, 
we  might  have  supposed  that  this  fearful  position 
would  be  occupied  only  by  the  outlaws  of  humani- 
ty, monsters  of  rapacity,  avarice,  and  injustice.  But 
no.  The  fig-tree  was  withered,  not  for  bearing  bad 
fruit,  but  for  yielding  no  fruit.  The  foolish  virgins 
were  excluded  from  the  marriage-feast,  not  for 
casting  away  their  lamps,  but  for  not  using  them. 
The  unprofitable  servant  was  cast  into  outer  dark- 
ness, not  for  wasting  the  talent  committed  to  him, 
but  for  not  employing  it.  The  worldling  whom  our 
Lord  denominates  a  fool,  is  not  charged  with  any 
positive  sins  :  for  aught  that  appears,  he  had  been 
honest  and  industrious ;  his  diligence  had  been 
crowned  with  success,  and  he  proposed  to  enjoy 
that  success  in  retirement  and  ease ; — and  what  is 
this  but  an  every-day  history  ?  or  where  is  the  man 
that  does  not  commend  him,  and  take  him  for  a 
model  1  But  he  had  "  laid  up  treasures"  only  "  for 
himself,  and  was  not  rich  towards  God ;"  and  there- 
fore is  he  summoned  suddenly  to  appear  as  a  guilty 
criminal  at  the  bar  of  God.  And  they  who  do  not 
now  learn  the  moral  of  his  history — "  to  take  heed 


176 

and  beware  of  covetousness  "—are  here  represent- 
ed as  finally  sharing  his  doom.  They  may  have 
been  as  free  as  the  reader  from  all  the  grosser 
vices.  They  may  have  had  many  negative  virtues, 
like  him,  and  have  often  boasted  that  they  did  no 
harm.  But  the  ground  of  their  condemnation  will 
be,  that  they  did  no  good.  They  may  have  occa- 
sionally exercised  that  empty  benevolence  which 
costs  neither  effort  nor  sacrifice.  But  they  prac- 
tised no  self-denial,  made  no  retrenchments,  took 
no  pains,  in  the  cause  of  mercy.  They  never  once 
thought  of  adopting  and  espousing  that  cause  as  an 
object  in  which  they  were  interested,  and  which 
looked  to  them  for  support.  Had  it  been  left  en- 
tirely to  them,  it  would  have  been  famished  with 
hunger,  have  pined  in  sickness,  have  been  im- 
mured in  a  prison,  and  have  perished  from  the 
.  world.  Most  justly,  therefore,  will  they  find  them- 
selves placed  on  the  left  hand  of  the  Judge. 

In  that  fearful  situation  the  covetous  man  will  be 
an  object  of  wonder  and  aversion  to  all  the  righteous. 
"  The  righteous  shall  see,  and  shall  laugh  at  him  : 
Lo,  this  is  the  man  that  made  not  God  his  strength, 
but  trusted  in  the  abundance  of  his  riches."  In  a 
popular  sense,  he  may  have  been  moral,  and  even 
generous;  but  he  had  "made  gold  his  hope,  and 


SECTION    VIII.  177 

had  said  to  the  fine  gold,  Thou  art  my  confidence." 
His  wealth  had  been  his  strong  tower,  but  that 
tower  shall  attract  the  bolt  of  heaven.  His  very 
armour  shall  draw  the  lightning  down.  The  expo- 
sure of  his  trust  shall  excite  the  scorn  and  derision 
of  the  universe.  t!  Men  shall  clap  their  hands  at 
him,  and  shall  hiss  him  out  of  his  place."  That  he 
should  have  thought  to  extract  happiness  from  a 
clod  of  earth  ;  that  he  should  have  reckoned  a  little 
gold  an  equivalent  for  God  ;  that  a  rational  and  im- 
mortal being  should  have  been  guilty  of  such  an  . 
enormity,  will  suspend  all  pity  in  the  minds  of  the 
righteous.  The  unhappy  being  will  behold  every 
finger  pointed  at  him  in  scorn ;  will  hear  himself 
mocked  at  as  a  prodigy  of  folly ;  will  be  scoffed 
and  chased  beyond  the  limits  of  God's  happy  do- 
minions. 

ff  He  shall  not  inherit  the  kingdom  of  God."  In 
the  classifications  of  this  world,  the  christiaii  mam- 
monist  may  stand  among  the  holy  and  excellent  of 
the  earth ;  but  in  the  final  arrangements  of  the 
judgment-day,  he  will  have  a  new  place  assigned 
him.  As  soon  as  his  character  becomes  known,  the 
righteous  will  no  longer  be  burdened  and  disgraced 
with  his  presence ;  they  will  cast  him  forth  as  an 
alien  from  their  community ;  "he  shall  not  inherit 

Mammon.  J  2 


178  MAMMON. 

the  kingdom  of  God."  Arid  the  very-eame  act 
which  removes  him  from  their  community  shall 
transfer  him  "  to  his  own  place"— to  the  congenial 
society  of  the  drunkard,  the  unbeliever,  the  idola- 
ter, and  of  all  who,  like  himself,  made  not  God 
their  trust.  c<  Know  ye.  hot,"  saith  the  apostle,  that 
this  is  the  divine  determination  1  It  is  no  new  ar- 
rangement, no  recent  enactment  of  the  Supreme 
Lawgiver,  arising  from  a  view  of  the  exigency  of 
the  case ;  it  is  the  operation  of  a  known  law,  eter- 
»  nal  and  immutable  as  his  own  nature  ; — "  He  shall 
not  inherit  the  kingdom  of  God."  The  lax  opinions 
of  the  church  on  the  sin  of  covetousness  may  de- 
lude him  with  the  hope  that  he  shall,  that  cupidity 
alone  shall  not  exclude  him  from  the  divine  pre- 
sence;  but  "  let  no  man  deceive  you  with  vain 
words,"  saith  the  apostle ;  the  decree  has  gone 
forth  against  every  covetous  man,  whatever  his 
standing  may  be  in  the  Christian  church, — "  He 
shall  not  have  any  inheritance  in  the  Kingdom  of 
Christ  and  God."  The  splendours  of  a  worldly 
kingdom  he  may  inherit ;  streams  of  worldly  afflu- 
ence may  seem  to  seek  him,  and,  like  a  sea,  he 
may  receive  them  all ;  but  he  gives  not  God  the 
glory,  he  makes  himself  no  heavenly  friends  with 
the  mammon  of  unrighteousness,  he  thinks  not  of 


SECTION    VIII.  179 

transferring  his  treasures  by  deeds  of  beneficence 
to  tbe  hands  of  God;  and,  consequently,  when  he 
passes  out  of  time  into  eternity,  though  he  should 
be  sought  for  before  the  throne  of  God  above, 
sought  for  diligently  among  all  the  ranks  of  the 
blessed,  he  would  no  where  be  found,  for  "  he  shall 
not  inherit  the  kingdom  of  God." 

The  final  destination  of  the  covetous  is  hell.  Hav- 
ing convicted  them  of  their  guilt,  the  Judge  will 
say  to  them,  in  common  with  all  the  .other  classes 
of  the  ungodly,  "  Depart  from  me,  ye  cursed,  into 
everlasting  fire,  prepared  for  the  devil  and  his  an- 
gels," and  then  will  they  behold  their  covetousness 
in  its  true  light.  They  will  see  that  it  involved  an 
attempt  to  erect  another  centre  than  God,  in  which 
they  might  find  happiness  and  repose ;  and,  there- 
fore, when  he  shall  place  himself  as  in  the  centre 
of  his  people,  and  say  to  them,  "  Come,"  the  cove- 
tous will  feel  the  rectitude  of  the  sentence  which 
shall  command  them  to  "  depart."  They  will  then 
discover,  that,  in  withholding  their  property  from 
benevolent  objects,  they  were  withholding  it,  in 
effect,  from  him  ;  and,  therefore,  they  shall  ac- 
knowledge the  justice  of  his  withholding  himself 
from  them.  They  belong  to  a  schism,  compared  • 
with  which  every  other  is  unworthy  of  the  name — 


180  MAMMON. 

the  great  schism  of  the  selfish.  Though  professing 
to  belong  to  that  vast  spiritual  community  in  heaven 
and  earth,  of  which  Christ  is  the  supreme  Head, 
they  will  then  discover,  that,  in  reality,  they  have 
attached  themselves  to  the  great  party  of  the  world, 
adopting  its  symbols,  governing  themselves  by  its 
maxims,  and  pursuing  its  ends ;  and,  therefore, 
with  it  they  must  "  depart."  And  then  first  will 
they  estimate  truly  the  dreadful  nature  of  their 
doom.  For  when  he  shall  say,  "  Depart,"  every 
thing  else — every  being,  every  place  in  the  uni- 
verse, but  hell,  shall  repeat,  "  Depart ;"  casting 
them  forth,  disowning  them,  and  refusing  them 
sympathy  and  refuge.  "  The  heaven  shall  reveal 
their  iniquity,  and  the  earth  shall  rise  up  against 
them."  "  They  shall  go  away  into  everlasting 
punishment." 


SECTION  IX. 


Excuses  of  Covelousness  for  its  want  of  Liberality. 

In  his  solemn  description  of  the  general  judg- 
ment, our  Lord  represents  the  ungodly  as  startled 


SECTION    IX.  181 

at  the  true  picture  of  their  own  selfishness.  Never 
having  reflected  on  their  conduct  in  its  religious 
bearings,  and  ultimate  effects,  they  cannot  allow 
that  the  charge  alleged  by  the  Judge  can  have  any 
application  to  them.  They  hasten,  therefore,  to 
put  in  their  pleas  in  arrest  of  judgment  to  stay 
their  doom.  In  like  manner,  on  surveying  the  mag- 
nitude of  the  evils  arising  to  religion  from  a  covet- 
ous spirit,  the  first  impression  of  a  person  impli- 
cated, may  probably  be  of  the  nature  of  a  remon- 
strance, which  may  be  interpreted  thus  : — If  I  am 
chargeable  with  cupidity,  the  degree  in  which  I 
indulge  the  passion  can  surely  bear  no  relation 
whatever  to  evils  so  enormous,  and  consequences 
so  dreadful.  I  have  often  given  to  the  claims  of  be- 
nevolence ;  I  am  in  the  habit  of  contributing  as 
others  do  ;  I  consider  that  I  am  benefiting  the  com- 
munity as  much,  if  not  more,  by  spending  than  by 
giving ;  I  give  as  much  as  I  conveniently  can  ;  had 
I  more  to  bestow,  I  would  certainly  give  it ;  and 
I  intend  to  remember  the  cause  of  God  in  tlie  final 
arrangements  of  my  property ;  so  that  whoever 
may  merit  these  strictures  on  covetousness,  they 
can  only  apply  to  me,  if  at  all,  in  the  most  mill- 
gated  sense. 

The  plausible  air  which  this  remonstrance  wears, 


182  MAMMON. 

requires  that  it  should  receive  examination.  You 
have  given,  you  say,  to  the  cause  of  Christian  phi- 
lanthropy. But,  it  may  be  inquired,  when  have  you 
given  1  Has  it  been  only  when  your  sensibility  has 
been  taken  by  surprise  ?  or  when  a  powerful  ap- 
peal has  urged  you  to  the  duty  ]  or  when  the  ex- 
ample or  the  presence  of  others  has  left  you  no 
alternative  ?  or  when  the  prospect  of  being  pub- 
lished as  a  donor  tempted  your  ostentation  ]  or 
when  importunity  annoyed  you  ?  or  when  under 
the  passing  influence  of  a  fit  of  generosity  ]  We 
would  not  too  curiously  analyze  the  composition  of 
any  apparent  virtue,  nor  would  we  have  you  to  sus- 
pend the  practice  of  charity  till  you  can  be  per- 
fectly certain  that  your  motives  are  unmixed.  But 
we  would  affectionately  remind  you,  that  if  you 
have  given  to  God  at  such  times  only,  it  proves  to  a 
demonstration  that  you  are  covetous  at  all  other 
times.  Your  covetousness  is  a  habit,  your  benevo- 
lence only  an  act ;  or,  rather,  it  is  only  the  momen- 
tary suspension  of  your  prevailing  habit ;  and,  as 
the  circumstance  that  a  man  enjoys  lucid  intervals, 
does  not  exempt  him  from  being  classed  among 
the  insane,  so  your  accidental  and  occasional  cha- 
rities still  leave  you  in  the  ranks  of  the  covetous. 
But  as  you  plead  that  you  have  given,  it  may  be 


SECTION    IX.  183 

inquired  further,  what  have  you  given  ]  The  mere 
circumstance  of  a  Christian  professor  devoting  a 
part  of  his  property  to  God,  does  not  denominate 
him  benevolent  j  otherwise  Ananias  must  be  ho- 
noured with  the  epithet;  and  yet  it  was  his  cove- 
tousness  which  involved  him  in  falsehood,  and  his 
falsehood  drew  down  destruction.  "  There  is  that 
withholdeth  more  than  is  meet  :"  if  men  were  to 
be  denominated  by  that  which  characterizes  them 
in  the  sight  of  God,  how  many  an  individual  who 
is  now  called  benevolent,  on  account  of  what  he 
gives,  would  be  stigmatized  as  covetous  on  account 
of  what  he  withholds.  Which  can  more  properly 
be  said  of  you,  that  you  have  given,  or  that  you 
have  withheld  ?  Would  you  not  feel  degraded  and 
displeased  to  hear  others  reporting  of  you,  that, 
slender  as  your  contribution  is,  jt  is  all  you  can 
give]  Numbers  profess  to  give;  their  mite ;  by 
which,  though  they  may  not  confess  it  to  them- 
selves, they  feel-  as  if  they  had  in  some  way  ap- 
proached the  example  of  the  widow,  if  not  actu- 
ally entitled  themselves  to  a  share  of  her  praise. 
While,  in  fact,  there  is  this  immense  distinction, 
that  whereas  she  cast  into  the  treasury  only  two 
mites,  because  it  was  her  all,  they  cast  in .  only  a 
mite  in  order  that  they  may  keep  their  all.  They 


184  MAMMON. 

pay  this  insignificant  fraction  in  tribute  to  a  clamo- 
rous conscience,  in-  order  that  they  may  buy  off 
the  great  bulk  of  their  wealth,  and  quietly  con- 
sume it  on  their  selfishness.  Her  greatness  of  soul, 
her  magnanimous  benevolence,  held  the  Saviour  of 
the  world  in  admiration,  and  drew  from  him  words 
of  complacency  and  delight.  Their  pretended  imi- 
tation of  her  conduct  is  an  insult  to  her  munifi- 
cence, and  to  the  praise  which  the  benevolent  Je- 
sus bestowed  on  it.  And  yet  to  which  of  these  two 
classes  of  donors  do  you  approach  the  nearest  ] 
Benevolence,  you  are  aware,  is  comparative  :  there 
are  some  who  have  given  their  all  to  God,  and  there 
are  those  who  may  almost  be  said  to  keep  their  all 
to  themselves ;  to  which  of  these  two  descriptions 
do  you  bear  the  greater  resemblance  ?  The  tree  is 
known  by  its  fruits ;  now  it  might  not  be  an  un- 
profitable exercise  for  you  to  examine  whether 
you  are  prepared  to  rest  your  claims  to  the  Chris- 
tian character  on  the  proportion  in  which  you  have 
borne  the  fruits  of  Christian  benevolence. 

A  second  plea  is,  that  you  believe  you  are  in  the 
habit  of  contributing  to -the  cause  of  mercy  as 
others  do.  But  have  you — a  Christian  friend  might 
inquire — have  you  ever  reflected  whether  or  not 
others  have  adopted  the  right  standard  of  benevo- 


SECTION    IX.  185 

lence  ?  The  amount  of  property  devoted  by  the 
Christian  public  to  God  is  annually  increasing ; 
does  not  that  imply  that  Christians,  at  present,  are 
only  approaching  the  proper  standard  of  liberality, 
rather  than  that  they  have  already  reached  it  ? 
And  would  it  not  be  noble,  would  it  not  be  god- 
like in  you,  were  you  to  reach  that  standard  be- 
fore them ;  were  you  to  take  your  rule  immedi- 
ately from  the  cross  itself,  rather  than  from  the  ex- 
ample of  those  who,  it  is  to  be  feared,  are  standing 
from  it  afar  off] 

Christians,  in  the  present  day,  seem  to  have  en- 
tered into  a  kind  of  tacit  compact,  that  to  give  cer- 
tain sums  to  certain  objects,  shall  be  deemed  be- 
nevolent :  the  consequence  of  which  is,  that,  though 
most  of  them  are  contributing  less  than  "  of  the 
ability  which  God  giveth,"  they  yet  never  suspect 
their  claim  to  be  deemed  liberal.  And  another  con- 
sequence is,  that  when  a  Christian  distinguishes 
himself,  and  stands  out  from  the  ranks  of  the  church 
by  a  noble  deed  of  liberality,  though  constrained 
to  admire  him,  they  do  not  consider  themselves 
called  on  to  imitate ;  for  they  feel  as  if  he  had  ex- 
ceeded the  rules— passed  the  prescribed  limits  of 
benevolence. 

We  have  supposed  that  you  not  only  plead  the 


136  MAMMON. 

example  of  others,  but  that  you  are  also  ready  to 
add,  "  I  contribute  as  muck  as  I  conveniently  can." 
Here,  however,  two  questions  instantly  arise  ;  first, 
whether  you  mean  that  you  devote  to  God  as  much 
of  your  property  as  is  convenient  to  your  luxury, 
or  convenient  to  your  bare  personal  comfort  1  And, 
secondly,  whether  what  is  generally  understood  by 
personal  convenience,  is  precisely  the  kind  of  ar- 
bitrator to  which  a  Christian  can  safely  refer  the 
amount  of  his  charity  1 

When  you  say  that  you  contribute  as  much  as 
you  conveniently  can,  we  presume  your  meaning 
to  be,  that  you  devote  to  benevolent  uses  all  that 
your  present  rate  of  expenditure  happens  to  leave 
unappropriated  to  other  objects.  But  here  again 
two  questions  arise  :  if  your  expenditure  is  calcu- 
lated and  reduced  to  a  plan,  ought  not  the  question, 
How  much  shall  I  devote  to  God  ?  to  have  made  an 
original  part  of  that  plan  ]  But  since  you  confess 
that  grave  omission,  ought  you  not  now  to  think  of 
retrenching  your  expenses,  and  reducing  your  plan, 
that  your  charity  may  not  be  left  to  the  mercy  of 
an  expensive  and  selfish  convenience  ?  Do  you  not 
know  that  all  the  great  works  of  the  Christian 
church  have  been  performed  by  sacrificing  your 
favourite  principle,  convenience  ?  that  a  Croesus 


SECTION   IX.  1S7 

himself  might  find  it  convenient  to  give  but  little  in 
charity  ?  and  an  Apicius  to  give  nothing •]  and  that 
if  the  men,  who,  in  all  ages,  have  been  most  dis- 
tinguished for  extending  the  kingdom  of  Christ, 
had  listened  to  the  dictates  of  convenience,  they 
would  have  lived  and  died  in  inglorious  and  guilty 
indolence  ]  And  need  you  be  reminded,  how  easily 
God  could  convince  you,  by  simply  reducing  your 
present  income,  that  you  might  have  made  it  con- 
venient to  contribute  to  his  cause  more  than  you 
now  do,  by  the  exact  amount  of  that  reduction  ] 
And  do  you  not  see  that  your  unfaithfulness  to 
your  present  trust  may  operate  with  God  to  forbid 
your  further  prosperity  1  for  is  it  not  a  law  of  his 
kingdom,  that  the  misimproved  talent  shall  be  with- 
drawn from  the  possessor,  rather  than  increased  ? 
Besides  which,  you  are  closing  your  eyes  to  eter- 
nal consequences;  for  "  he  that  soweth  sparingly 
shall  reap  also  sparingly/'  The  husbandman  who 
should  grieve  that  he  had  land  to  sow,  and  be- 
grudge the  seed  which  he  sowed  in  it  as  lost,  would 
be  wise  and  innocent  compared  with  the  man, 
who,  while  professing  to  believe  that  his  charity  is 
seed  sown  for  an  eternal  harvest,  should  yet  stint 
and  limit  his  gifts  to  the  precarious  leavings  of  an 
improvident  convenience. 


183  MAMMON. 

Or,  you  may  be  ready  to  plead,  "  I  consider  my 
self  not  only  justified  in  my  present  style  of  living, 
but  as  benefiting  the  community  by  spending  a 
portion  of  my  property  in  luxuries,  more  than  by 
giving  that  portion  of  it  away  in  alms ;  besides, 
by  so  expending  it,  I  am  employing  and  supporting 
the  very  classes  who  subscribe  to,  and  principally 
sustain,  the  cause  of  Christian  charity." 

To  such  a  statement  we  can  only  reply,  gene- 
rally, that  your  scale  of  expenditure  must  depend, 
partly,  on  the  rank  you  hold  in  society ;  that  to  ar- 
bitrate correctly  between  the  claims  of  self  and  the 
cause  of  mercy,  is  the  great  problem  of  christiar. 
benevolence  ;  and  that  if  you  have  solved  this  pro- 
blem scripturally  and  conscientiously  before  God, 
it  is  not  for  man  to  sit  in  judgment  on  your  conduct. 

But  if  you  have  not — if  the  question  still  remain 
open  for  consideration,  your  attention  is  earnestly 
solicited  to  three  classes  of  remarks — economical, 
logical,  and  religious. 

When  you  speak  of  benefiting  the  community 
by  spending,  more  than  by  giving,  you  are,  in  effect, 
raising  a  question  in  political  economy.  Now,  to 
this  it  may  be  replied,  that  the  Christian  liberality 
to  which  you  are  urged  is  not  that  indiscriminate 
alms-giving  which  would  encourage  idleness  and 


SECTION    IX.  189 

improvidence.  The  introduction  of  such  an  idea 
is  quite  beside  the  question  in  hand.  The  charity 
which  you  are  called  on  to  exercise  is  such  as  would 
leave  the  whole  apparatus  of  useful  production  un- 
touched ;  or  which  would  touch  it  only  to  render 
it  more  effective  and  beneficial — a  charity  which 
should  at  once  discourage  vice ;  assist  the  helpless, 
destitute,  and  diseased ;  reclaim  and  reform  the  vi- 
cious ;  civilize  barbarism ;  call  into  activity  the 
physical,  mental,  and  moial  resources  of  savage 
lands  ;  excite  and  reward  industry  ;  instruct  the  ig- 
norant ;  circulate  the  word  of  God  ;  send  the  agents 
of  the  Christian  church  in  all  directions  :  and  which 
should  thus  furnish  employment  for  multitudes, 
give  a  direction  to  the  energies  of  men  which 
should  bear  fruit  for  both  worlds,  modify  and  raise 
the  tone  of  political  economy  itself,  and  thus  be  the 
means  of  lifting  earth  nearer  heaven.  •* 

And  then,  as  to  the  value  of  labour  and  wealth, 
you  have  to  consider  that  the  labour  which  is  bene- 
ficial to  the  individual,  may  be  quite  unprofitable  to 
the  country,  and,  in  the  end,  injurious,  and  even 
ruinous ;  otherwise,  war,  or  the  multiplication  of 
gaming-houses,  and  gin-palaces,  by  giving  employ- 
ment to  numbers,  must  be  hailed  as  a  blessing ;  in- 
stead of  which,  it  might  easily  be  shown  that,  in  a 


190  MAMMON. 

variety  of  ways,  they  operate  economically  as  a  curse 
You  have  to  consider  also,  that  it  is  not  the  mere 
increase  of  a  nation's  wealth  which  enhances  its 
permanent  prosperity ;  otherwise,  the  colonial  mines 
of  Spain  would  be  still  her  boast  and  glory,  instead 
of  accounting,  as  they  unquestionably  do,  for  het 
national  poverty.  And  the  question  is,  whether 
much  of  your  outlay,  though  it  may  encourage  la- 
bour, and  increase  the  present  wealth  of  the  nation, 
has  not,  when  viewed  as  a  part  of  a  great  and 
slowly  developed  system,  a  tendency  to  generate 
many  of  the  evils  which  the  economical  science  de- 
plores, of  shortening  the  intervals  between  what 
are  called  the  periodical  crashes,  and  of  proving  in 
the  e*nd  a  national  bane,  and  not  a  blessing. 

We  might,  indeed,  by  taking  advantage  of  a  dis- 
tinction which  obtains  in  political  economy  between 
productive  and  unproductive  consumption,  undertake 
to  show,  that  by  expending  your  revenue  on  the 
superfluities  of  life,  you  are  consuming  it  unproduc- 
tively,  that  is,  in  a  way  which  does  not  add  to  the 
annual  quantity  or  value  of  the  national  produce  \ 
and  that  you  are  thus  comparatively  sinking  and 
absorbing  in  self-indulgence  that  which  might  have 
augmented  the  national  wealth,  and  have  made  you 
a  greater  national  blessing.  So  that,  though  we  do 


SECTION    IX.  191 

not  say  that  the  science  blames  you,  yet  the  praise 
which  it  accords  to  you  is  but  secondary  arid  qua- 
lified. 

But  not  only  is  not  an  unnecessary  expenditure 
productive  of  the  good  you  imagine,  it  is  attended 
with  positive  evils.  For,  in  order  to  support  it,  a 
proprietor  of  land,  for  instance,  must  raise  his  rents ; 
in  order  to  pay  these,  the  farmer  must  raise  the 
price  of  his  produce  ;  and  in  order  to  purchase  that, 
the  labourer  must  receive  increased  wages ;  and  the 
consequence  is,  that  that  large  number  of  the  hu- 
man family  whose  means  of  subsistence  are  preca- 
rious, experience  an  increased  difficulty  in  obtain- 
ing even  this  scanty  supply.  Besides  which,  a  use- 
less consumption,  by  keeping  up  a  high  scale  of 
expenditure,  and  engrossing  the  time  of  the  pro- 
ducer, prevents  leisure,  and  thus  retards  mental 
cultivation,  arid  real  improvement. 

Again ;  employing  the  term  logical  in  the  hum- 
blest sense,  and  for  the  sake  of  distinction,  it  may 
be  inquired — if  there  be  really  so  much  benefit  as 
you  suppose  accruing  to  the  community  from  what 
you  spend  on  superfluities,  would  you  riot  be  jus- 
tified in  spending  more  upon  them  1  Ought  it  not 
to  become  a  serious  question  with  you,  whether  or 
not  you  are  spending  enough  upon  them  ?  whether 


192  MAMMON. 

it  be  not  your  duty  to  spend  all  you  can  upon  them  1 
to  withdraw  even  that  small  modicum  which  you 
now  dispense  in  charity,  and  to  devote  tliat  also  to 
"  the  pride  of  life  1"  But  from  such  a  conclusion 
you  recoil  with  dismay ;  though  it  seems  only  the 
legitimate  application  of  your  own  principle.  You 
add  also,  that  the  money  which  you  expend  in  lux- 
ury actually  employs  the  very  classes  who  sub- 
scribe to,  and  principally  support,  the  cause  of 
Christian  charity.  As  far  as  you  are  concerned,  re- 
member, this  is  purely  accidental.  Whatever  credit 
may  be  due  to  them  for  thus  consecrating  the  fruit 
of  their  labor  to  God,  not  a  particle  of  that  credit 
can  properly  accrue  to  you.  Besides,  if  they  do 
right  in  thus  taking  their  property  to  God,  are  not 
you  doing  wrong  in  taking  your  property  from 
him  %  and  will  riot  their  conduct  be  cited  against 
you  in  condemnation  1  To  be  consistent  with  your- 
self, you  must  actually  condemn  them  for  appro- 
priating so  much  of  their  property  to  God.  On  your 
principle,  they  are  essentially  wrong  for  not  indulg- 
ing more  in  superfluities.  For  if  your  self  indul- 
gence, in  this  respect,"  works  so  beneficially  for  the 
general  good,  would  not  their  self-indulgence  work 
equally  well  1  From  this  conclusion,  also,  you  pro- 
bably recoil,  though  it  seems  only  the  legitimate 
application  of  your  own  principle. 


SECTION    IX.  193 

But,  as  a  professed  follower  of  Christ,  you  will 
surely  prefer  to  decide  the  question  on  religious 
grounds — aware,  as  you  are,  that  whatever  is  mo- 
rally wrong  cannot  be  politically  right.  Now  you 
profess  freely  to  admit  that  the  claims  of  Christian 
charity  should  be  supported  ;  the  only  question  with 
you  is,  whether  you  are  or  are  not  doing  more 
good  by  spending  what  you  do  in  luxury,  than  by 
dispensing  it  all  in  charity.  But  let  me  ask  you,  as 
under  the  eye  of  Omniscience-.— is  your  ruling  mo- 
tive in  this  lavish  expenditure  a  sincere  desire  to 
benefit  the  community  ]  or  are  you  not  actuated 
rather  by  a  love  of  self-gratification  ]  Because,  if  so, 
it  would  be  well  for  you  to  remember,  that,  though 
God  may  overrule  your  evil  for  good — though  your 
profusion,  as  a  matter  of  political  economy,  should 
be  proved  to  work  well,  and  to  be  worthy  of  praise, 
yet,  as  a  question  of  morality,  bearing  on  your  eter- 
nal state,  it  may  endanger  your  safety,  and  aggra- 
vate your  condemnation.  If  it  be  true  that  your 
eternal  welfare  depends"  on  the  ascendancy  which 
the  spiritual  may  now  gain  over  the  sensible — and 
that  every  additional  worldly  indulgence  is  so  much 
advantage  given  to  the  flesh  over  the  spirit,  are  you 
not,  by  your  profusion,  endangering  your  own  ever- 
lasting peace  for  the  sake  of  uncertainly  promoting 

Mammon.  l*^ 


194  MAMMON. 

the  temporal  welfare  of  Others  ?  and  is  not  this  a 
most  romantic  mode  of  self-immolation  ]  a  loving 
of  your  neighbor,  not  merely  as  yourself,  but  en- 
thusiastically more,  and  infinitely  better,  than  your- 
self] In  addition  to  which,  your  profusion  deprives 
you  of  the  power  of  performing  any  great  acts  of 
liberality.  It  invites  the  classes  below  you  to  aspire 
to  an  imitation  of  your  style  of  living.  It  provokes 
that  fierce  and  ruinous  competition  of  fashion  so 
generally  complained  of,  and  which  you  yourself, 
perhaps,  loudly  deprecate ;  and  it  gives  the  enemies 
of  religion  occasion  to  triumph,  and  to  say,  in  the 
language  of  one  of  our  leading  reviews,  "  The  god- 
ly testify  no  reluctance  to  follow  the  footsteps  of 
the  worldly,  in  the  way  to  wealth.  They  quietly 
and  fearlessly  repose  amidst  the  many  luxuries  it 
enables  them  to  procure.  We  see  their  houses  fur- 
nished in  every  way  to  gratify  the  lust  of  the  flesh, 
the  desire  of  the  eye,  and  the  pride  of  life ;  and 
their  tables  covered  with  the  same  luxurious  viands 
that  are  in  ordinary  use  with  the  men  of  the  world. 
This  self  indulgence,  and  worldly  conformity,  and 
vain  glory,  although  at  variance  with  the  spirit  and 
principles  of  the  Gospel,  seem  to  find  just  as  much 
favor  in  their  eyes  as  with  other  people." 

"  But  had  I  more   wealth  to  bestow,  I  would 


SECTION    IX.  195 

cheerfully  give  it."  "  Be  not  deceived."  Certain 
as  you  suppose  that  fact  to  be,  your  conduct  at  pre- 
sent proves  that  it  is  the  greatest  of  all  uncertain- 
ties ;  or  rather,  the  certainty  is  all  on  the  side  of 
your  continued  covetousness.  Riches  were  nevei 
yet  known  to  cure  a  selfish  extravagance,  or  to  re- 
medy the  love  of  riches.  As  well  might  a  vintage 
be  expected  to  allay  the  thirst  of  a  fever  produced 
by  wine.  "  He  that  loveth  silver  shall  not  be  sa- 
tisfied with  silver ;  nor  he  that  loveth  abundance, 
with  increase." 

Nee  Cr&si  for  tuna  unquam,  nee  Persica  Regna 
Sufficient  animo * 

The  cure  you  need,  consists,  not  in  the  increase 
of  your  wealth,  but  in  the  reduction  of  your  de- 
sires, and  the  conscientious  management  of  your 
present  income,  as  a  faithful  servant  of  Jesus 
Christ.  Till  this  be  effected,  the  augmentation  of 
your  property  a  thousand-fold  would 'not  increase 
your  benevolence,  and  when  it  is  effected,  the  re- 
duction of  your  property  to  two  mites  would  not 
be  able  to  rob  you  of  the  pure  satisfaction  of  cast- 
ing them  into  his  treasury. 

*  The  wealth  of  Croesus,  or  of  Persia,  could  never  satis- 
fy its  craving  desire. 


195  MAMMON. 

Agur  declined  the  abundance  to  which  you  as- 
pire, as  a  perilous  condition;  and  the  individual 
who  professes  to  desire  opulence  only  for  the  sake 
of  having  more  to  bestow,  and  who  makes  that  de- 
sire an  excuse  for  giving  nothing  at  present,  gives 
ground  to  fear  that  his  desire  is  only  a  pretext  for 
indulging  covetousness  under  the  mask  of  religion. 
But  you  are  not  to  wait  till  you  have  reached  what 
you  deem  the  best  possible  state  for  the  exercise 
of  benevolence.  The  charity  required  at  your  hands 
at  present,  is  only  such  as  your  limited  resources 
will  allow ;  three  mites  are  not  expected  from  him 
who  has  only  two.  And  the  more  nearly  your  cir- 
cumstances approach  to  a  state  of  poverty,  the 
greater  the  opportunity  you  possess  for  evincing 
the  noble  generosity  and  force  of  the  Christian  prin- 
ciple. It  was  not  the  splendid  donations  of  the  rich 
which  drew  forth  the  praises  of  the  Son  of  God, 
but  the  more  than  royal  munificence  of  that  indi- 
gent widow  who  gave  "  all  that  she  had,  even  all 
her  living."  The  darker  the  midnight  sky,  the  more 
bright  and  glorious  do  the  stars  appear,  and  the 
more  loudly  do  the  heavens  declare  the  glory  of 
God.  And  when  the  apostle  would  excite  our  ad- 
miration by  the  wonders  of  the  Christian  church,  he 
tells  us  of  "  the  churches  of  Macedonia,  how  that 


SECTION    IX.  197 

in  a  great  trial  of  affliction,  the  abundance  of  their 
joy,  and  their  deep  poverty,  abounded  unto  the 
riches  of  their  liberality." 

Or,  perhaps,  you  belong  to  those  who  triumph  in 
their  own  mind  over  every  charge  of  cupidity,  by 
remembering  that  they  have  made  arrangements  to 
be  charitable  at  death.  A  life  of  benevolence  end- 
ing in  a  munificent  bequest,  is  like  a  glorious  sun- 
set to  a  summer's  day :  but  no  posthumous  charity 
can  justify  a  life  of  avarice,  or  redeem  it  from  in- 
famy. To  defer  religion  till  your  last  hour,  is  guilt 
of  the  deepest  die ;  can  it  be  innocent,  then,  to  de- 
fer the  practice  of  one  of  its  most  important  relative 
duties  till  the  same  crisis  arrives  ]  Were  you  to 
direct  that  a  splendid  asylum  should  arise  over  your 
dust,  it  would  still  be  the  monument  of  a  covetous 
man ;  and  on  its  front  might  be  written,  as  an  ap- 
propriate inscription,  "  The  triumph  of  death  over 
avarice."  For  he  who  withholds  his  hand  from 
deeds  of  benevolence  till  his  last  hour,  surrenders 
his  property  to  death,  rather  than  devotes  it  to  God. 

Besides,  you  are  acting  in  direct  opposition  to 
the  settled  arrangements  of  Providence,  and  to  the 
most  distinct  intimations  of  the  divine  will.  Your 
charity,  as  it  is  to  be  future,  is  made  to  depend  on 
the  most  contingent  circumstances.  "  I  had  got,  in 


198  MAMMON. 

all  my  life,"  saith  Baxter,  "  the  just  sum  of  a  thou- 
sand pounds.  Having  no  child,  I  devoted  it  to 
charity.  Before  my  purpose  was  accomplished,  the 
king  caused  his  exchequer  to  be  shut,  and  it  was 
lost ;  which  I  mention  to  counsel  any  man  that 
would  do  good,  to  do  it  speedily,  and  with  all  his 
might."  But  by  making  your  charity  to  consist  only 
in  testamentary  bequests,  you  are  calculating  on 
the  certainty  and  stability  of  that  which  has  be* 
come  the  very  emblem  of  change  and  uncertainty. 
What  you  are  proposing  to  defer  till  the  period 
of  your  natural  death,  the  Christian,  if  he  acts  in 
harmony  with  his  profession,  feels  himself  bound 
to  do  when  he  dies  unto  sin ;  then  he  devotes  him- 
self and  his  property  to  God  j  and  with  this  im 
mense  advantage  over  you,  that  he  will  be  his  own 
executor;  that  he  will  enjoy  the  godlike  satisfac- 
tion of  doing,  himself,  for  God,  what  you  will  leave 
to  be  done  by  others.  You  profess  to  regard  your- 
self only  as  the  steward  of  your  property,  and  God 
as  its  supreme  Proprietor ;  but,  instead  of  employ- 
ing it  for  his  glory,  and  rendering  to  him  a  periodi- 
cal account  of  your  stewardship,  your  covetous- 
ness  makes  it  necessary  that  death  should  deprive 
you  of  your  office,  in  order  that  the  property  you 
hold  may  not  lie  useless  for  ever.  Your  Lord  ad- 


SECTION    IX.  199 

monishes  you  to  make  to  yourself  friends  of  the 
mammon  of  unrighteousness,  that  when  you  fail 
they  may  receive  you  into  everlasting  habitations  ; 
but,  however  welcome  the  arrival,  and  cheering 
the  reception  of  the  benevolent  Christian  in  heaven, 
it  is  evident  that  no  such  a  greeting  can  be  there 
awaiting  you  :  the  only  signs  of  joy  your  spirit 
will  meet  with,  will  be  occasioned  by  the  libera- 
tion of  your  property  by  the  hand  of  death,  and, 
as  such,  they  will  wear  the  aspect  of  upbraiding 
and  reproach.  And  when  your  Lord  shall  come  to 
receive  his  own  with  usury,  instead  of  being  able 
to  refer  to  the  multiplication  of  the  talents  with 
which  he  intrusted  you,  that  multiplication  will 
have  yet  to  commence,  for  your  talents  will  only 
just  then  have  emerged  into  the  light ;  you  will 
have  drawn  on  yourself  the  doom  of  the  unprofita- 
ble servant.  You  are  reversing  that  Divine  ar- 
rangement which  would  have  caused  your  death 
to  be  deprecated  as  a  loss,  and  you  are  voluntarily 
classing  yourself  with  the  refuse  of  society,  whose 
death  is  regarded  as  a  gain  :  those  who  might  have 
prayed  for  your  continuance  on  earth,  as  a  benefit 
to  the  church,  are,  for  that  very  reason,  tempted 
rather  to  desire  your  departure.  Were  your  con- 
duct  to  be  generally  adopted,  what  loss  would  the 


200  •        MAMMON. 

cause  of  Christ  sustain  by  the  death  of  half  the 
Christian  world  1  so  completely  is  that  conduct  at 
variance  with  the  Divine  arrangements,  that  such 
a  bereavement,  which  we  cannot  contemplate  now 
without  horror,  would  in  such  a  case  become 
indispensable  to  the  continuance  of  his  cause 
upon  earth. 

But  another  question  remains  :  having  shown 
that  dying  charity  is  a  miserable  substitute  for  liv- 
ing benevolence,  it  is  now  important  to  inquire 
what  the  amount  of  your  charitable  bequests  may 
be.*  We  are  aware  that  this  question  of  propor- 
tion is  one  entirely  between  you  and  God  ;  and 
one  which  must  be  regulated  by  circumstances  of 
which  you  are  to  be  supposed  the  best  judge.  In 
the  great  majority  of  instances,  however,  the  por- 
tion of  a  testator's  property,  which  ought  to  be  set 
apart  for  benevolent  purposes,  is  more  clear  to  any 
disinterested,  consistent  Christian,  than  it  is  to  the 
testator  himself. 

Have  you  not  reason  to  suspect  that  such  is  the 

*  The  writer  would  take  the  liberty  of  recommending 
an  excellent  little  work  called  "  Testamentary  Counsels,-'1 
published  by  Ward  and  Co.  containing  much  on  the  subject 
of  charitable  bequests,  that  is  entitled  to  the  serious  atten- 
tion of  the  Christian  reader. 


SECTION.  IX.  20 1 

fact  in  relation  to  yourself]  Does  not  your  present 
parsimony  towards  the  objects  of  Christian  benevo- 
lence justify  the  fear  that  the  amount  which  you 
have  devised  for  such  purposes  is  most  dispropor- 
tionately small  ?  And  yet,  small  as  it  is,  it  is  your 
WILL.  In  discharging  your  testamentary  duties, 
you  naturally  remember  those  person?  and  objects 
which  hold  the  dearest  place  in  your  affections ; — 
your  supreme  friend  is  Christ,  and  yet,  that  he 
should  be  put  off  with  that  insulting  pittance,  is 
your  WILL.  You  make  your  testamentary  arrange- 
ments in  the  prospect  of  leaving,  what  you  pro- 
perly designate,  a  world  of  misery  ;  much  more  of 
your  property  might  be  left  to  the  alleviation  of 
that  misery,  but  that  it  shall  not  be  so  appropriated, 
is  your  WILL.  You  make  those  arrangements  in  the 
prospect  of  being  received  into  perfect  blessed- 
ness :  you  entertain  the  hope,  that,  while  survivors 
are  inspecting,  for  the  first  time,  the  distribution 
which  you  have  made  of  your  property,  your  eman- 
cipated spirit  will  be  enjoying  the  happiness  of  the 
just  made  perfect — but  that  next  to  none  of  that 
happiness  shall  arise  from  the  right  employment 
of  that  property  in  your  WILL. 

This  robbery  of  the  Christian  cause,  remember, 
is  your  will ;  not  a  mere  passing  thought,  not  a 


202  MAMMON. 

precipitate,  unconsidered  act,  but  an  act  which  you 
formally  preface  with  saying,  that  you  perform  it 
Cf  being  in  sound  mind  ;" — in  a  word,  it  is  the  de- 
liberate act  of  that  sovereign  part  of  your  nature, 
your  WILL.  After  having  defrauded  the  cause  of 
Christ  of  your  property  during  life,  you  take  the 
most  effective  measures  to  perpetuate  the  fraud 
after  death  ;  and  you  do  this  with  the  full  consent 
of  aL  the  powers  of  your  mind — you  impress  it 
with  the  sovereign  seal  of  your  WILL.  Yes,  this  is 
your  will,  which  you  are  content  to  have  for  a 
dying  pillow,  and  on  which  you  propose  to  rest 
your  dying  head !  Your  will — and,  therefore,  a 
part  of  your  preparation  for  death  !  Your  will — 
avowedly  prepared,  (monstrous  inconsistency!) 
that  the  subject  of  your  property  may  not  disturb 
you  in  death  !  that  you  may  be  able  to  think  of  it 
with  peace  !  Your  will — made,  partly,  as  a  prepa- 
ration for  the  awful  moment  when  it  shall  be  said 
to  you,  "  Give  an  account  of  thy  stewardship  ;" 
made  on  the  way  to  that  judgment-seat,  where  one 
of  the  first  inquiries  will  relate  to  the  use  which 
you  have  made  of  your  various  talents  !  Christian 
professor,  be  entreated.  What  your  death-bed 
would  have  been,  had  your  attention  never  been 
called  to  this  subject,  it  is  not  for  man  to  surmise ; 


SECTION    IX.  203 

but  should  you  allow  your  will  to  remain  unalter- 
ed, now  that  your  conscience  has  been  admonished, 
do  not  wonder  if  you  find  your  dying  pillow  to  be 
filled  with  thorns.  Retrieve,  at  once,  your  guilty 
error,  by  augmenting  your  bequests  to  the  cause 
of  mercy  ;  or,  better  still,  become  your  own  exe- 
cutor, and  enjoy  at  once  the  luxury  of  doing  good ; 
or,  last  of  all,  do  both — if  the  nature  of  your  pro- 
perty permit,  do  both. 

It  is  impossible  to  look  at  the  existing  state  of 
the  finance  of  the  Redeemer's  empire,  without 
perceiving  that  the  entire  system  of  Christian  charity 
requires  revision.  Here  and  there  an  individual  is 
to  be  found  who  appears  to  be  economizing  his 
resources,  and  employing  them  for  God  ;  but  the 
very  admiration  in  which  such  an  one  is  held  in  his 
circle,  implies  that  he  stands  there  alone.  The 
light  of  a  Reynolds,  a  Thornton,  a  Broadley  Wil- 
son, an  unostentatious  L ,  shines  so  conspicu- 
ously on  account  of  the  surrounding  darkness.  In 
every  section  of  the  Christian  church,  a  spirit  of 
self-denying  benevolence  is  the  exception,  and  a 
spirit  of  worldly  self-indulgence,  which  leaves  lit- 
tle for  God,  is  the  rule.  Nor  can  a  thoughtful  Chris- 
tian reflect  on  the  growing  necessities  of  the  king- 
dom of  Christ,  and  the  imploring  attitude  of  the 


204  MAMMON. 

heathen  world,  and  then  remember  how  insignifi- 
cant a  proportion  of  the  vast  pecuniary  resources 
of  the  Christian  church  is  at  present  appropriated 
to  the  demands  of  that  kingdom  and  the  salvation 
of  that  world,  to  say  nothing  of  the  difficulty  with 
which  even  that  little  is  obtained,  without  feeling 
that  among  the  revolutions  which  must  precede 
the  universal  reign  of  Christ,  one  must  be  a  revolu- 
tion in  the  economy  of  Christian  benevotcnc-c. 

It  is  a  subject  deserving  the  most  serious  consi- 
deration of  the  Christian  church,  how  much  its  com- 
parative want  of  success,  in  attempting  to  enlarge 
the  empire  of  Christ,  is  to  be  ascribed  to  its  pre- 
vailing covetousness.  How  incalculably  greater  the 
success  of  the  Christian  enterprise  might  have  been, 
had  we  only  acted  up  to  our  conviction  of  Christian 
liberality  !  What  could  have  stood  before  a  spirit 
which  evinced  a  readiness  to  give  up  all  for  Christ  ] 
The  world  would  have  beheld  in  such  conduct  an 
argument  for  the  reality  and  power  of  the  Gospel, 
which  it  could  not  misunderstand,  could  not  gain- 
say. "  God,  even  our  own  God,  would  have  bless- 
ed us  " — would  have  gloried  to  own  such  a  people, 
and  to  have  distinguished  us  with  his  blessing  be- 
fore the  eyes  of  the  world.  "  God  would  have 
blessed  us ;"  and,  as  a  consequence,  "  all  the  ends 
of  the  earth  would  have  feared  him." 


SECTION    IX.  205 

What  would  have  been  the  history  of  the  primi- 
tive Christians,  had  they  been  cursed  with  the  love 
of  money,  as  the  Christians  of  the  present  day  are  ! 
Taking  into  the  account  their  deep  poverty,  and 
the  absence  of  all  the  present  facilities  for  prose- 
cuting their  aggressive  designs,  a  very  small  circle 
would  have  bounded  the  extent  of  their  labors,  and 
a  single  page  have  sufficed  for  the  history  of  their 
exploits.  But,  feeling  the  momentous  nature  of  the 
object  in  which  they  were  embarked,  that  the  sal- 
vation or  perdition  of  the  world  depended  instru- 
mentally  on  their  conduct,  they  laid  aside  every 
weight,  cast  their  all  into  the  treasury  of  benevo- 
lence, and  held  themselves  free  and  ready  to  do 
their  Lord's  behests, — and  he  caused  them  to  tri- 
umph in  every  place. 

We  are  professedly  treading  in  their  steps.  We 
have  received  from  them  the  standard  of  the  cross, 
and  are  carrying  it  forward  against  the  common 
foe.  But,  though  avowedly  warring  with  the  world, 
have  we  not  taken  a  wedge  of  gold,  and  hidden  it 
in  the  camp  ]  If  the  presence  of  one  Achan  was 
sufficient  to  account  for  the  discomfiture  of  Israel, 
can  we  be  surprised  at  the  limited  nature  of  our 
success,  when  every  tribe  of  our  Christian  Israel 
has  its  Achan,  and  almost  every  tent  its  "  accursed 


206  MAMMON. 

thing  V  Has  not  the  cupidity  of  Christians  made 
the  very  profession  of  disinterested  benevolence  to 
be  laughed  at  by  the  world,  and  to  be  suspected 
even  among  themselves  ?  Have  not  deeds  of  self- 
sacrificing  liberality,  such  as  would  have  been 
looked  on  in  the  primitive  church  as  matters  of 
course,  become  so  rare  among  Christians,  that  the 
man  who  should  perform  them  now,  if  he  did  not 
actually  endanger  his  reputation,  would  at  least 
incur  the  suspicions  of  a  large  proportion  of  his 
fellow-professors  ?  The  spirit  of  primitive  liberali- 
ty has  so  far  departed  from  the  church,  that  they 
would  eye  him  with  an  astonishment  which  would 
prove  that,  if  sympathy  be  necessary  to  compre 
hend  his  conduct,  they  must  remain  in  guilty  igno- 
rance. Is  there  not  reason  to  conclude,  that  many 
a  noble  offering  has  been  lost  to  the  cause  of  Christ, 
and  many  an  incipient  impulse  of  benevolence  re- 
pressed, through  a  dread  of  that  singularity  which 
it  might  seem  to  affect  as  viewed  by  a  selfish  eye  ? 
One  great  reason,  it  has  been  said,  why  men  prac- 
tise generosity  so  little,  is,  because  there  are  so  few 
generous  persons  to  stimulate  others  by  their  ex- 
ample ;  and  because  (it  might  have  been  added) 
they  dreaded  the  charge  of  singularity,  or  ostenta- 
tion, to  which  their  liberality  would  have  exposed 


SECTION   JX.  207 

them.  And  if  many  a  Tinman  gift  has  heen  lost  to 
the  cause  of  Christ  owing  to  this  repulsive  spirit 
of  cupidity,  can  we  wonder  if  it  has  deprived  the 
church  of  many  a  divine  blessing  which  would 
otherwise  have  been  showered  on  it  ?  The  church 
has  indulged  in  a  selfish  and  contracted  spirit,  until 
it  has  gone  far  to  disqualify  itself  for  receiving  great 
things  either  from  God  or  man. 

And,  in  the  same  way,  the  church  has  incapaci- 
tated itself  for  achieving  great  things.  There  is  no 
necessity  for  supposing  an  arbitrary  withholdment 
of  the  divine  blessing,  or  the  existence  of  a  judicial 
sentence,  in  order  to  account  for  its  limited  useful- 
ness. Indeed,  the  measure  of  success  which  has 
crowned  its  endeavors,  would  discountenance  such 
an  idea ;  for  that  success  has  been  granted  to  the 
full  amount  of  its  labors.  It  is  the  limitation  of  its 
labors  and  sacrifices  alone,  which  has  restricted  its 
usefulness ;  and  the  reason  of  that  restriction  is  to 
be  found  in  its  selfishness.  What  Bacon  says  of  the 
influence  of  riches  on  virtue,  may  be  adapted  and 
applied,  in  the  most  extensive  sense,  to  their  in- 
fluence on  the  spirit  of  the  Christian  enterprise. 
They  have  proved  the  baggage,  the  impedimenta, 
of  the  Christian  army ;  for  as  the  baggage  is  to  an 
army,  so  is  wealth  to  the  Christian  enterprise ;  it 


208  MAMMON. 

hindcrelh  the  march,  and  the  care  of  it  sometimes 
loseth  or  disturbeth  the  victory. 

And  the  variety  of  ways  in  which  it  operates  to 
this  effect,  might  supply  us-with  an  answer  to  those 
who  may  fancy  that  we  are  ascribing  too  much  to 
the  influence  of  wealth,  and  overlooking  other  im- 
portant considerations.  It  is  precisely  owing  to  its 
influence  on  those  other  important  things — espe- 
cially on  the  spirit  of  prayer,  and  on  Christian  self- 
dedication — that  the  love  of  the  world  acquires  its 
potency  of  evil.  Prayer  is  its  appointed  antidote  : 
but  it  keeps  the  Christian  from  the  closet,  or  else  di- 
vides his  heart  with  God  while  there.  And  as  to  his 
high  office  of  appearing  before  God  as  a  suppliant 
for  the  world,  an  earnest  intercessor  for  his  race,  it 
barely  allows  him  time  to  pray  for  himself.  A  clear 
and  steady  view  of  the  cross  would  heal  the  malady, 
would  cause  his  heart  to  swell  with  the  lofty  emo- 
tion that  he  is  not  his  own,  and  impel  him  to  lay 
himself  out  for  that  blessed  Saviour  whose  property 
he  is  ;  but  the  malady  itself  prevents  him  from  be- 
holding the  remedy.  As  if  an  Israelite  had  teen  so 
wounded  as  to  be  unable  to  see  the  brazen  serpent 
erected  for  his  cure,  the  spirit  of  selfishness  has 
partially  blinded  the  Christian  to  the  sight  of  the 
cross.  It  only  allows  him  to  see  it  as  in  a  mist ; 


SECTION   IX.  209 

and  so  completely  does  it  engross  his  time,  and 
drive  him  hither  and  thither  in  its  service,  that  he 
seldom  looks  at  the  cross  sufficiently  long  either  to 
see  its  glory  or  to  feel  its  power.  And  might  we 
not  appeal  to  a  large  number  of  Christian  profes- 
sors, whether  during  those  rare  moments,  when 
they  have  caught  a  glimpse  of  that  self- dedication 
to  Christ  which  he  claims  at  their  hands,  a  percep- 
tion at  the  same  time  of  the  sacrifices  and  self-de- 
nial to  which  that  consecration  of  themselves  would 
necessarily  lead,  has  not  been  sufficient  to  make 
that  sight  of  his  claims  unwelcome,  and  induced 
them  to  turn  their  attention  in  another  direction  ? 
Thus  the  spirit  we  are  deprecating  proves  itself  to 
be  still  entitled  to  the  bad  pre-eminence  assigned 
to  it  by  the  apostle — it  is  the  "  root  of  all  evil." 
Like  the  drunkenness  which  the  demon  is  said 
to  have  chosen  for  his  victim,  because  he  knew  it 
would  lead  to  other  sins,  it  is  a  kind  of  moral  in- 
toxication which  never  exists  alone  ;  it  not  only  robs 
the  cause  of  Christ  of  the  liberality  of  his  followers, 
but  also  of  their  prayers  and  cordial  dedication. 

But  at  the  same  time  that  this  spirit  disqualifies 
bis  people  for  extensive  usefulness,  it  places  the 
great  Head  of  the  church  himself  under  a  moral 
restraint  from  employing  and  blessing  them.  A 

Mammon.  14 


210  MAMMON. 

covetous  community ! — how  can  he  consistently 
employ  such  to  convert  the  world  ;  especially,  too, 
as  that  conversion  includes  a  turning  from  cove- 
tousness  !  Not,  indeed,  that  his  cause  is  necessarily 
dependent  for  success  on  our  liberality  ;  and,  per- 
haps, when  his  people  shall  be  so  far  constrained 
by  his  love  as  to  place  their  property  at  his  dispo- 
sal, he  may  most  convincingly  show  them  that  he 
has  never  been  dependent  on  it,  by  completing  his 
kingdom  without  it.  But  while  he  chooses  to  work 
by  means,  those  means  must  be  in  harmony  with 
his  own  character — and  what  is  that  but  the  very 
antithesis  of  selfishness,  infinite  benevolence  ?  He 
regulates  those  means  by  laws  ;  and  one  of  those 
laws  is,  that  "  from  him  that  hath  not  shall  be  taken 
away  even  that  which  he  hath ;"  that  he  not  only 
will  not  employ  the  covetous,  but  will  deprive  him 
of  that  which  he  guiltily  withholds  from  his  service. 
We  pray  for  the  coming  of  the  kingdom  of 
Christ;  and  wonder,  at  times,  that  our  heartless, 
disunited,  inconsistent  prayers  are  not  more  suc- 
cessful. But  what  do  we  expect  ]  Let  it  be  sup- 
posed that  a  convocation  of  all  the  Christians  upon 
earth  should  be  held,  to  implore  the  conversion  of 
the  world.  How  justly  might  an  ancient  prophet 
be  sent  from  God  to  rebuke  them,  and  say,  "  The 


SECTION    IX.  211 

means  for  the  conversion  of  the  world  are  already 
in  your  hands.  Had  you  been  dependent  on  human 
charity  for  support,  you  might  have  then  expected 
to  see  your  Almighty  Lord  erect  his  kingdom  by 
miracle ;  or  you  might  have  warrantably  come  to 
his  throne  to  implore  the  means  necessary  for  car- 
rying it  on  by  your  own  instrumentality.  But  these 
means  are  actually  in  your  hands.  You  are  asking 
him  to  do  that,  the  very  means  for  doing  which  are 
at  this  moment  locked  up  in  your  coffers,  or  wasted 
in  costly  self  gratification.  For  what  purpose  has 
he  placed  so  much  wealth  in  your  hands  1  Surely 
not  to  consume  it  in  self-indulgence.  *  Is  it  time 
for  you,  O  ye,  to  dWell  in  your  ceiled  houses,  and 
this  house  to  lie  waste  ?  Now,  therefore,  thus  saith 
the  Lord,  consider  your  ways.'  Look  abroad  over 
your  assembled  myriads  ;  calculate  the  immense 
resources  of  wealth  placed  at  your  disposal ;  ima- 
gine that  you  were  to  be  seized  with  a  noble  gene- 
rosity, like  that  which  at  different  times  descended 
on  the  ancient  people  of  God,  and  then  say,  what 
enterprise  would  be  too  vast  for  your  means  ?  *  Ye 
are  cursed  with  a  curse  ;  for  ye  have  robbed  me, 
even  this  whole  nation.  Bring  ye  all  the  tithes  into 
the  storehouse,  that  there  may  be  meat  in  mine 
house,  and  prove  me  now  herewith,  saith  the  Lord 


MAMMON. 

of  hosts,  if  I  will  not  open  the  windows  of  heaven 
and  pour  you  out  a  blessing,  that  there  shall  not  be 
room  enough  to  receive  it/  Make  this  consecration 
of  your  substance  to  the  cause  of  Christ ;  and  then 
come  and  ask  for  the  conversion  of  the  world.  But 
till  then,  come,  rather,  to  humble  yourselves  before 
him  for  embezzling  the  property  with  which  he  has 
intrusted  you  for  his  cause,  and  expending  it  on 
yourselves.  Come,  and  ask  him  to  destroy  '  the  lust 
of  the  flesh,  and  the  lust  of  the  eyes,  and  the  pride 
of  life  ;'  and  to  pour  upon  his  church  a  spirit  of 
Christian  liberality.  Till  then,  ask  only,  and,  in 
common  consistency,  expect  only,  that  he  will  bless 
you  to  the  amount  of  your  sacrifices  for  his  cause. 
What  he  may  choose  to  do  more,  by  an  exercise  of 
his  sovereignty,  is  not  for  you  to  surmise  ;  but  for 
you  to  ask  him  to  do  more,  is  to  ask  him  to  proclaim 
himself  to  the  world  the  patron  of  your  cupidity." 

And  while  we  were  listening  to  this  righteous 
rebuke,  should  we  not  feel  that  we  were  standing 
before  the  Lord  in  our  iniquity  ?  would  not  confu- 
sion cover  us  1 

It  is  recorded  to  the  high  honor  of  certain  ancient 
believers,  that  "  God  was  not  ashamed  to  be  called 
their  God."  And  the  reason  assigned  is,  that,  instead 
of  coveting  earthly  possessions,  or  seeking  their  hap- 


SECTION    IX.  213 

piness  in  worldly  objects,  they  placed  all  they  held 
in  the  hands  of  God,  lived  only  for  his  glory,  and 
"  declared  plainly  that  they  sought  a  better  coun- 
try, that  is,  a  heavenly."  Of  such  a  people  God 
was  not  ashamed  ;  they  did  not  disgrace  him  in  the 
eyes  of  the  world  ;  their  conduct  proclaimed  their 
celestial  descent ;  he  gloried  in  them ;  he  could 
point  the  attention  of  the  world  to  them  with  di- 
vine complacency ;  he  could  intrust  his  character 
in  their  hands ;  he  could  leave  the  world  to  infer 
what  he  was  from  what  they  were  ;  he  was  content 
to  be  judged  of  from  the  conduct  of  his  people. 
Could  he  leave  his  character  to  be  inferred  from 
the  conduct  of  his  people  now  ?  His  spirituality — 
could  the  world  infer  tliat  from  any  remarkable  ab- 
straction from  earth,  apparent  in  their  conduct  1  or 
is  there  any  thing  in  the  manner  and  extent  of  their 
liberality  which  would  remind  the  world  of  his 
vast  unbounded  benevolence  ?  They  know  the 
grace  of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  that,  though  he 
was  rich,  for  their  sakes  he  became  poor,  that  they, 
through  his  poverty,  might  be  rich  ;  but  from  what 
part  of  their  conduct  would  the  world  ever  learn 
this  melting  truth]  No,  in  these  respects  he  is 
ashamed  to  be  called  their  God.  Their  self-indul- 
gence misrepresents  his  self-sacrifice.  Their  co- 


214  MAMMON. 

vetousness  is  a  shame  to  his  boundless  beneficence. 
His  character  is  falsified  by  them  in  the  eyes  of 
the  world.  Nor  could  he  honor  them  in  any  distin- 
guished manner  before  the  world  without  indors- 
ing and  confirming  that  falsification  of  his  charac- 
ter. He  is  yearning  for  the  happiness  of  the  pe- 
rishing world  ;  but  such  is  his  Divine  plan,  that  he 
works  by  the  instrumentality  of  his  church,  and 
she  has  so  drunk  in  the  spirit  of  selfishness,  that 
he  cannot  consistently  employ  her  in  dispensing 
his  grace. 

And  even  the  limited  degree  in  which  their  sel- 
fishness has  allowed  him  to  bless  their  agency  in 
his  cause,  begins  to  be  found  inconvenient  to  that 
selfishness.  For  what  is  the  most  frequent  com- 
plaint of  those  who  are  deputed  to  manage  that 
agency  ?  Not  that  God  is  withholding  his  blessing 
from  their  proceedings,  but  that,  owing  to  that 
blessing,  a  demand  has  been  created  for  the  Gos 
pel,  which  they  are  unable  to  supply — a  harvest 
has  been  raised  which  they  are  unable  to  reap — a 
tract  of  territory  so  extensive  has  been  conquered, 
that,  unless  the  resources  placed  at  their  command 
are  greatly  augmented,  they  will  not  be  able  to 
subdue  and  retain  it. 

There  was  a  time  when  we  thought  there  was 
nothing  to  dread  but  a  want  of  success — nothing 


SECTION    IX.  21/5 

to  be  prayed  for  but  success.  But  we  did  not  duly 
consider  the  peculiar  kind  of  success  which  our 
selfishness  required ;  a  cheap  and  unexpensive 
success  which  should  support  itself,  and  which 
should  leave  our  spirit  of  cupidity  untaxed  and 
undisturbed.  We  have  now,  however,  begun  to 
discover,  that  success  itself,  of  a  certain  descrip- 
tion, may  be  attended  with  the  most  serious  incon- 
veniences— inconveniences,  that  is,  to  selfish  chris- 
tians — that  we  need,  in  connection  with  success,  a 
Divine  preparation  to  receive,  and  improve,  and 
enjoy  it.  Yes,  we  feel  persuaded,  that  we  must 
have,  and  shall  have,  a  change  in  the  church,  be- 
fore we  shall  witness  the  renovation  of  the  world  ; 
that  the  predictions  of  Scripture  concerning  the 
church  must  be  fulfilled  before  those  concerning 
the  world  shall  be  accomplished  ;  that  the  tempe- 
rature of  Christian  piety  has  yet  to  be  raised  many 
degrees ;  that  plans  will  be  executed  for  the  dif- 
fusion of  the  Gospel  which  have  not  yet  been 
imagined ;  that  efforts  and  sacrifices  will  yet  be 
made  on  so  gigantic  a  scale  as  to  throw  the  puny 
doings  of  the  present  day  completely  into  the  shade, 


PART    THE    THIRD. 
Christian  Liberality  explained  and  enforced* 


*   * 


SECTION  I. 

Christian  Liberality  explained. 

To  assert  that  the  cause  of  Christian  liberality 
exhibits  no  signs  of  improvement,  would  only 
evince  insensibility  to  obvious  facts,  and  ingrati- 
tude to  the  great  Head  of  the  church.  Even  the 
feeling  which  has  called  for  "  an  essay,  bearing 
upon  selfishness  as  it  leads  us  to  live  to  ourselves, 
and  not  unto  God  and  our  fellow-men,"  is  to  be 
viewed  as  an  indication  that  many  a  Christian  more 
than  ever  deplores  that  selfishness.  While  the  ready 
assent  which  is  generally  accorded  to  every  faith- 
ful appeal  as  to  the  necessity  of  increased  liberality 
to  the  cause  of  God ;  the  growing  conviction  of 
the  church,  that,  compared  with  what  will  be  done, 
we  are  at  present  doing  nothing;  the  approbation 
with  which  every  new  expedient  for  augmenting 
the  funds  of  benevolence  is  hailed ;  the  streams 
which  appear  in  almost  every  new  channel  of 
mercy  as  soon  as  it  is  opened ;  and  the  increase  of 
funds  which  our  great  benevolent  institutions  have 
almost  annually  to  announce — all  concur  to  show 
that  the  church  is  not  only  dissatisfied  with  its  past 


220  MAMMON. 

parsimony,  but  is  gradually  awaking  to  the  claims 
of  Christian  liberality. 

But,  pleasing  as  the  circumstances  are,  it  must 
be  remembered  that  they  are  little  more  than  indi- 
cations of  improvement.  All  the  great  defects  in 
the  charity  of  the  Christian  church  remain  with  very 
slight  modifications.  It  is  still  adapted  to  a  former 
state  of  comparative  inactivity,  rather  than  to  the 
present  period  of  Christian  enterprise.  It  waits  for 
impulses  and  appeals.  It  wants  calculation,  pro 
portion,  and  self-denial.  It  does  not  keep  pace 
with  the  growing  demands  of  the  kingdom  of 
Christ.  It  wants  principle  and  plan.  The  great 
current  of  Christian  property  is,  as  yet,  undiverted 
from  its  worldly  channel.  The  scanty  rills  of  cha- 
rity, which  at  present  water  the  garden  of  the 
Lord,  and  the  ingenuity  and  effort  employed  to 
bring  them  there,  compared  with  the  almost  undi- 
minished  tide  of  selfish  expenditure  which  still 
holds  on  its  original  course,  remind  one  of  the 
slender  rivulets  which  the  inhabitants  of  the  east 
**aise  from  a  river  by  mechanical  force  to  irrigate 
their  thirsty  gardens  ;  the  mighty  current,  mean- 
while, without  exhibiting  any  sensible  diminution- 
of  its  waters,  sweeping  on  in  its  ample  and  ancient 
bed  to  the  ocean 


SECTION    I.  221 

By  unwearied  diligence,  the  art  of  acquiring 
money  has  been  well  nigh  brought  to  perfection. 
Nor  can  we  think  of  the  thousand  ways  in  which 
it  is  squandered  and  dissipated  by  artificial  wants 
and  worldly  compliances,  without  deploring  that 
the  a-rt  of  wasting  it  by  the  most  expeditious  me- 
thods, should  exhibit,  as  rt  does,  the  finish  and 
completeness  of  a  system.  The  art  of  using  it,  so 
as  to  make  it  produce  the  greatest  measure  of  hap- 
piness, still  remains  to  be  practised.  This,  indeed, 
the  Gospel  alone  can  teach,  and  has  taught  from 
the  beginning.  In  the  early  age  of  the  Christian 
church,  the  heavenly  art  of  embalming  property, 
and  making  it  immortal,  was  not  only  known  but 
practised ;  but,  like  the  process  of  another  em- 
balming, it  has  now,  for  ages,  been  practically 
lost.  Not  that  its  principles  have  been  unknown  ; 
these  have  always  presented  themselves  on  the 
page  of  truth,  in  lines  of  living  light.  But  though 
benevolence  has  never  been  unknown  as  a  theory,' 
the  perverting  influence  of  a  worldly  spirit  has 
been  rendering  it  more  and  more  impracticable  as 
an  art.  So  that  now,  when  the  obvious  application 
of  its  principle  is  pointed  out,  and  the  necessity 
for  carrying  those  principles  into  practice  is  dally 
becoming  more  urgent,  we  begin  to  be  aware  of 


222  MAMMON. 

the  vast  distance  to  which  the  church  has  been 
drifted  from  the  course  of  its  duty  by  the  current 
of  the  world,  and  how  difficult  it  will  be  to  effect 
a  return. 

As  an  important  preliminary  to  such  a  return,  it 
should  be  our  first  concern  to  repair  to  the  living 
oracles  of  God,  and  there,  in  an  humble  devotional 
spirit,  to  inquire  his  will  on  the  subject.  This,  of  it- 
self, would  be  gaining  an  important  step.  It  would 
be  proclaiming  a  wide  secession  from  the  world ; 
for,  while  the  ungodly  act  and  feel  as  if  their  pro- 
perty were  absolutely  and  irresponsibly  their  own, 
we  should  be  thus  acknowledging  that  we  hold  our 
property  from  God,  and  that  we  feel  ourselves 
bound  to  consult  his  will  as  to  the  manner  of  using 
it.  The  unreflecting  Christian  who  is  content  with 
appearances  and  professions,  no  doubt  imagines 
that  this  distinction  between  the  church  and  the 
world  exists  already.  Because  he  has  heard,  until 
the  sound  has  become  familiar,  that  all  we  have 
and  are  belongs  to  God,  and  has  never  heard  the 
proposition  contradicted,  he  fancies  that,  on  this 
point,  all  is  well.  But  it  is  precisely  because  chris- 
tians  generally  have  practically  repealed  this  prin- 
ciple, and  trampled  it  under  foot,  that  the  spirit  of 
benevolence  has  almost  been  lost  from  the  church. 


SECTION    I.  223 

While  the  practical  recognition  of  this  single  prin- 
ciple, simple  as  it  is,  familiar  and  admitted  as  it  is 
in  words,  would  of  itself  produce  an  unimagined 
change  in  favor  of  evangelical  charity.  Geologists 
tell  us  that  were  the  poles  of  the  earth  to  be  shifted 
but  a  few  degrees,  the  ocean  would  rush  towards 
the  new  equator,  the  most  solid  parts  of  the  globe 
give  way,  and  the  earth  assume  £n  aspect  entirely 
new.  The  solitary  principle,  that  we  hold  our  pro- 
perty as  subordinate  agents  for  God,  were  it  only 
felt,  embraced,  allowed  to  have  unobstructed  ope- 
ration in  our  practice,  would,  of  itself,  be  sufficient 
to  break  up  the  present  system  of  selfishness,  and 
to  give  an  entirely  new  aspect  to  the  cause  of  be- 
nevolence. 

Let  the  Christian  reader,  then,  seek  to  have  this 
principle  wrought  into  his  mind  as  an  ever-present 
conviction.  Let  the  recollection  of  his  property, 
and  the  idea  of  God  as  its  supreme  owner,  stand 
together  in  his  mind  in  close  and  constant  union. 
Let  him  remember  that  the  supreme  proprietor- 
ship of  his  property  is  in  the  hands  of  God  as  real- 
ly as  the  salvation  of  his  soul  is ;  and  that  the  will 
of  God  is  law  here,  as  much  as  in  the  more  spirit- 
ual domain  of  faith.  What  would  his  conduct  be, 
had  he  been  left  the"  executor  of  that  property  by  a 


224  MAMMON. 

wealthy  friend  ]  Would  he  not  have  been  frequently 
recurring  to  the  will  of  the  testator,  that  he  might  not 
misapply  the  least  fraction  1  His  supreme  Friend 
.  has  given  him  the  use  of  certain  property,  accom- 
panying the  grant  with  a  specification  of  his  will 
concerning  its  application.  Nothing  but  an  humble, 
grateful,  obedient  heart  is  necessary  in  studying 
that  will,  in  order  to  find  that  it  descends  to  rules, 
limitations,  and  directions,  of  the  most  clear  and 
minute  description.  And  it  is  only  by  keeping  these 
requirements  constantly  open  before  him,  and  re- 
turning to  study  them  daily  in  that  spirit,  that  the 
Christian  can  escape  the  danger  of  appropriating 
and  misapplying  that  which  belongs  to  his  Lord 
and  Master. 

In  the  scheme  of  evangelical  charity,  the  prin- 
ciple which  actuates  the  giver  is  of  paramount  im- 
portance. "  He  that  giveth,  let  him  do  it  with  sim- 
plicity." The  Gospel  rejects  alike  the  tax  which 
is  reluctantly  paid  by  fear,  the  bribe  which  is  given 
to  silence  importunity,  the  sacrifice  which  is  offered 
to  a  vain  ostentation,  and  the  price  which  is  intend* 
ed  to  purchase  a  place  in  the  divine  favor,  or  as  a 
ground  of  justification  before  God.  The  only  offer- 
ing which  it  accepts  is  that  which  originates  in  a 
principle  of  love  and  obedience  to  Christ,  and 


SECTION    I.  225 

which  hopes  and  asks  for  divine  acceptance  through 
him  alone.  It  takes  the  Christian  to  the  cross,  and 
there  it  aims  to  touch  all  that  is  tender  and  gene- 
rous in  his  nature,  while  it  says,  "  Ye  know  the 
grace  of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  that,  though  he 
was  rich,  for  your  sakes  he  became  poor,  that  ye, 
through  his  poverty,  might  be  rich."  And  having 
made  its  appeal  at  the  cross,  having  provided  and 
plied  him  with  the  grand  motive  of  redeeming  love, 
it  will  accept  nothing  which  overlooks  the  con- 
straining influence  of  that  principle. 

Familiarity  with  large  sums  of  money  may  lead 
a  person  to  make  benefactions  as  munificent  as  the 
heart  of  charity  could  wish.  Animal  generosity  may 
act  the  donor  with  all  the  promptitude  and  easy 
grace  of  charity  herself.  But  "  though  I  bestow  all 
my  goods  to  feed  the  poor,  .  .  .  and  have  not  cha- 
rity, it  profiteth  me  nothing."  The  absence  of  evan- 
gelical love  is  the  want  of  the  incense  which  alone 
could  impart  to  the  sacrifice  a  sweet-smelling  savor 
unto  God.  And  while  its  absence  would  reduce 
the  collected  gifts  of  a  nation  to  penury  itself,  its 
presence  imparts  to  a  widow's  mite  a  value  which 
God  appreciates,  and  by  which  heaven  is  enriched, 
It  turns  "  a  cup  of  cold  water"  into  a  sacramental 
symbol ;  for  it  is  given  "  in  remembrance  of  Christ." 

Mammon.  15 


226  MAMMON. 

Suspended  from  the  throne  of  heaven,  it  transmutes 
the  least  gift  that  may  be  hung  on  it  into  a  jewel 
destined  to  augment  the  glory  of  Him  on  whose 
head  are  "  many  crowns." 

That  which  constitutes  the  superiority  of  evan- 
gelical piety,  as  a  self-propagating  and  diffusive 
system,  to  every  form  of  false  and  heterodox  reli- 
gion is,  that  it  has  for  its  great  actuating  principle 
the  love  of  Christ.  This  is  "  the  seed  in  itself;"  the 
leaven  which  shall  never  cease  to  ferment  till  it 
has  leavened  the  entire  mass  of  humanity.  Hence, 
every  thing  which  would  obtain  acceptance  with 
God  must  exhibit  marks  of  the  assimilating  and 
sanctifying  power  of  this  principle.  Nay,  every 
thing  which  would  find  favor  in  the  eyes  of  the 
Christian  himself,  even  his  own  acts  and  offerings 
of  charity,  must  bear  evident  relation  to  Christ,  or 
receive  the  condemnation  of  his  own  grateful  heart. 
In  the  exercise  of  a  holy  jealousy  for  his  blessed 
Lord,~he  is  led  to  scrutinize  his  motives,  to  trace 
his  benevolence  to  its  source,  to  examine  whether 
or  not  it  took  its  rise  at  the  cross ;  and,  if  it  did  not, 
he  finds  cause  for  penitence  and  humiliation  before 
God.  Thus,  while  false  religion  makes  his  alms- 
deeds  a  substitute  for  piety,  the  Gospel  heightens 
benevolence  into  one  of  the  most  spiritual  and  im- 


SECTION    I.  227 

proving  duties  the  Christian  can  perform.  For,  by 
imbuing  his  heart  with  the  love  of  God,  it  enables 
him  to  taste  the  godlike  enjoyment  of  doing  good ; 
and,  by  teaching  him  to  refer  all  his  acts  of  bene- 
volence to  Christ,  to  perform  them  as  expressions 
of  gratitude  to  him,  to  hope  for  their  acceptance 
through  him,  and  to  pray  that  they  may  tend  to  his 
glory,  it  keeps  him  near  to  the  cross,  in  an  atmos- 
phere of  spiritual  and  elevated  piety.  And  when 
once  he  has  become  native  to  the  element,  when 
the  expansive,  delightful,  irresistible  power  of  the 
Saviour's  grace  has  become  his  ruling  motive,  he 
would  feel  an  inferior  principle  to  be  little  less 
than  degradation  and  bondage.  He  accounts  the 
costliest  sacrifice  he  can  offer  as  poor ;  resents  the 
limits  which  a  cold  and  calculating  selfishness 
would  impose  on  his  offerings  as  chains  and  fet- 
ters ;  and  if  called  to  pour  forth  his  blood  as  a  liba- 
tion on  the  altar  of  Christian  sacrifice,  he  would 
feel  that  he  had  rendered  an  ample  explanation  of 
his  conduct,  by  saying,  with  the  apostle,  "  The 
love  of  Christ  constraineth  us." 

In  order  that  our  benevolence  may  become  a 
valuable  habit,  it  must  be  provided  with  regular 
resources.  Nothing  good  or  great  can  be  effected 
without  plan.  In  their  own  worldly  business,  men 


228  MAM:,IQ.\. 

perceive  the  importance  of  method ;  and,  if  they 
would  render  their  liberality  efficient,  they  must 
adopt  a  system  for  that  also.  On  this  subject  the 
Gospel  itself  prescribes — "  Upon  the  first  day  of 
the  week,  let  every  one  of  you  lay  by  him  in  store 
as  God  hath  prospered  him,  that  there  be  no  ga- 
therings when  I  come."  "  By  which,"  saith  Psy- 
ley,  "  I  understand  St.  Paul  to  recommend  what  is 
the  very  thing  wanting  with  most  men,  the  being 
charitable  upon  apian ;  that  is,  upon  a  deliberate 
comparison  of  our  fortunes  with  the  reasonable  ex- 
penses and  expectations  of  our  families,  to  com- 
pute what  we  can  spare,  and  to  lay  by  so  much  for 
charitable  purposes." 

To  take  indeed  a  weekly  account  how  God  hath 
prospered  us,  is  not,  in  all  cases,  possible  ;  but  the 
spirit  of  the  direction  would  be  equally  satisfied, 
if,  on  taking  the  account  at  other  stated  times, 
we  only  lay  by  for  God  as  he  hath  prospered  us. 
Owing  to  the  want  of  a  plan  like  this,  the  cause 
of  Christ  is  often  an  unwelcome  and  an  unsuccess- 
ful applicant ;  selfishness,  which  has  always  the 
advantage  of  being  able  to  be  the  first  claimant, 
squanders  in  superfluities  what  conscience  would 
have  devoted  to  God ;  and  many,  it  is  to  be  feared, 
from  not  having  wherewith  to  answer  the  calls  and 


SECTION    I.  229 

impulses  of  charity  as  they  arose  in  the  heart,  have 
at  length  lost  the  very  disposition  to  do  good. 
While  the  advantages  arising  from  the  adoption  of 
such  an  arrangement  are  numerous,  we  are  undei 
less  temptation  to  withhold  our  charity  ;  our  duty 
is  made  more  convenient  by  rendering  it  thus  in 
easy  installments  ;  our  love  to  Christ  is  more  grati- 
fied by  being  able  to  present  him  in  the  end  with  a 
larger  offering  ;  the  hand  of  God  is  regularly  re- 
cognized in  our  worldly  affairs  ;  his  presence  is 
invited,  so  to  speak,  into  the  very  heart  of  our 
prosperity,  whence  the  world  is  most  anxious  to 
exclude  him,  invited  to  audit  the  account  of  our 
gains;  our  offerings  are  presented  with  cheerful- 
ness, because  they  come  from  a  fund  designed  ex- 
pressly to  no  other  end  than  chanty ;  and  the  cause 
of  benevolence,  no  longer  a  dependant  on  preca- 
rious charity,  is  welcomed  and  honored  as  an  au- 
thorized claimant,  a  divine  creditor,  while  what 
we  retain  for  our  own  use  is  divinely  blessed  by 
the  dedication  of  the  rest  to  God. 

Nothing  that  is  good  or  great,  we  repeat,  can  be 
effected  without  plan.  Business,  to  be  successful, 
must  be  conducted  on  system;  and  why  should 
not  the  book  which  records  the  occasional  and  the 
regular  contributions  of  charity  be  kept  and  in 


230  MAMMON. 

spected  as  carefully  as  the  ledger  of  trade  ?  Cove- 
tousness  plans  for  selfish  purposes  ;  and  why  should 
not  benevolence  counter-plan,  and  organize  its  re- 
sources for  objects  of  divine  philanthropy  ]  Poli- 
tical economy  plans  for  national  purposes ;  and 
why  should  there  not  be  an  ecclesiastical  economy 
to  systematize  its  resources  of  that  kingdom  which 
is  not  of  this  world  1  We  desire  not  a  revival  of 
sumptuary  laws  to  restrain  extravagance  in  diet 
and  dress,  but  a  tax  self-levied  on  all  the  luxuries 
and  indulgencies  of  life.  We  ask  not  for  an  in- 
quisitorial Roman  census,  but  for  a  conscientious 
assessment  of  all  the  property  of  the  Christian 
church,  so  scrupulously  made  and  regularly  re- 
peated, that,  like  that  ancient  republic,  we  may 
have  accurate  returns,  from  time  to  time,  of  all  the 
statistics  of  the  Christian  empire,  and  may  know  our 
resources  for  war  with  the  kingdom  of  darkness. 
But  what  proportion  of  our  income  ought  we  to 
devote  to  charitable  uses  ]  If  Christian  love  be 
permitted  to  answer  this  question,  and  assign  the 
amount,  there  is  no  reason  to  fear  a  too  scanty  al- 
lowance. On  the  other  hand,  if  selfishness  be  suf- 
fered to  decide,  there  is  ground  to  fear  that  even 
an  inspired  reply,  could  such  be  obtained,  would 
be  heard  only  to  be  overruled  Besides  which,  the 


SECTION    I.  £31 

Gospel  of  Christ,  in  harmony  with  its  great  design 
of  establishing  a  reign  of  love,  leaves  its  followers 
to  assess  themselves.  It  puts  into  their  hands,  in- 
deed, a  claim  upon  their  property,  but  leaves  the 
question,  how  much  ?  to  be  determined  by  them- 
selves. In  assisting  them  to  fill  up  the  blank  with 
the  proper  assessment,  the  only  step  which  it  takes 
is  to  point  them  to  the  cross  of  Christ ;  and,  wrhile 
their  eye  is  fixed  there  in  admiring  love,  to  say, 
"  How  much  owest  thou  unto  thy  Lord  V9  "  Freely 
ye  have  received,  freely  give." 

It  must  be  quite  unnecessary  to  remind  the  chris- 
tian,  that  a  principle  of  justice  to  man  must  be  laid 
as  the  basis  of  all  our  calculations  on  this  subject. 
"  For  I  the  Lord  love  judgment?  I  hate  robbery 
for  burnt  offering."  To  present  him  with  that 
which  his  own  laws  of  justice  would  assign  to 
another,  is  to  overlook  the  claims  of  even  ordinary 
Lonesty,  and  to  make  him  the  patron  of  unrigh- 
teousness. But,  while  the  worldling  looks  on  jus- 
tice as  the  only  claimant  on  his  property,  and  con- 
cludes that  when  that  is  satisfied,  he  may  warranta- 
bly  sacrifice  the  whole  remainder  to  himself,  the 
Christian  views  it  only  as  a  preparation  for  sacri- 
ficing to  God. 

It  is  .observable  that  Abraham  and  Jacob,  on 


232  MAMMON. 

particular  occasions,  voluntarily  devoted  to  God — • 
what  afterwards  became  a  Divine  law  for  the  Jew 
ish  nation — a  tenth  of  their  property.  Without  im- 
plying that  their  example  has  any  obligation  on  us, 
we  may  venture  to  s_ay,  that  one  tenth  of  our  whole 
income  is  an  approved  proportion  for  chanty,  for 
those  who,  with  so  doing,  are  able  to  support  them- 
selves and  families.  For  the  more  opulent,  and  es- 
pecially for  those  who  have  no  families,  a  larger 
proportion  would  be  equally  easy.  For  some,  one- 
half  would  be  too  little  ;  while,  for  others,  a  twen 
tieth,  or  even  a  fiftieth  would  require  the  nicest 
frugality  and  care.  Indeed,  of  many  among  the 
poor  it  may  be  said,  that  if  they  give  any  thing, 
they  give  their  share — they  cast  in  more  than  all 
their  brethren. 

But,  in  determining  the  proportion  to  be  made 
sacred  to  God,  the  Christian  would  surely  rather 
exceed  than  fall  short  of  the  exact  amount.  With 
whom  is  he  stipulating  ]  For  whom  is  he  prepar 
ing  the  offering  ]  Well  may  the  recollection  put 
every  covetous  thought  to  instant  flight ;  tinging 
his  cheek  with  shame  at  the  bare  possibility  of  in- 
gratitude ;  and  impelling  him  to  lay  his  ail  at  the 
feet  of  Christ.  Only  let  him  think  of  the  great  Icve 
wherewith  Christ  hath  loved  him  ;  only  let  him 


SECTION    I.  233 

pass  by  the  cross  on  his  way  to  the  altar  of  obla- 
tion, and  his  richest  offering  will  appear  totally 
unworthy  of  Divine  acceptance.  When  Christ  is 
the  object  to  be  honored,  the  affection  of  the  par- 
doned penitent  cannot  stop  to  calculate  the  value 
of  its  alabaster  box  of  precious  ointment — that  is 
an  act  to  which  only  a  Judas  can  stoop — its  chief 
and  sole  regret  is,  that  the  unction  has  not  a  richer 
perfume,  and  a  higher  value.  When  a  Zaccheus 
finds  himself  standing,  a  sinner  saved  by  grace,  in 
the  presence  of  the  Being  who  has  saved  him,  he 
exclaims,  "  Beh01d,  Lord,  the  half  of  my  goods  I 
give  to  the  poor ;  and  if  I  have  wronged  any  man 
by  false  accusation,  I  restore  unto  him  four-fold." 
Covetousness,  a  moment  before,  was  enthroned  in 
his  heart,  but  now  it  is  beneath  his  feet.  A  moment 
ago  wealth  was  his  idol ;  but  now  its  only  value 
consists  in  furnishing  him  with  an  offering  of  love 
to  Christ.  What  things  were  gain  to  him,  those  he 
counted  loss  for  Christ. 

And  as  the  great  principle  of  love  to  Christ  will 
not  allow  the  more  opulent  to  give  scantily,  so 
neither  will  it  permit  the  poorest  to  come  before 
him  empty.  It  was  one  of  the  Divine  enactments 
even  of  the  legal  dispensation — None  shall  come  be- 
fore me  empty.  But  that  which  was  matter  of  law 


234  MAMMON. 

with  the  Israelite,  the  Christian  will  seize  as  a 
golden  opportunity  for  evincing  his  love  to  Christ ; 
and  will  bring,  though  it  be  only  a  grain  of  incense 
for  an  offering,  or  a  leaf  for  that  wreath  of  praise 
and  honor  which  the  church  delights  to  lay  at  the 
feet  of  Christ.  Whatever  Scripture  example  others 
may  profess  to  copy,  he  will  select  the  example  of 
the  benevolent  widow ;  and,  while  others  content 
themselves  with  only  admiring  it,  he  will  often  re- 
flect on  its  imitableness.  Nor  will  the  language  of 
the  apostle  be  ever  heard  by  him  but  as  an  address 
to  himself,  "  Let  him  labor,  working  with  his  hands 
the  thing  which  is  good,  that  he  may  have  to  give 
to  him  that  needeth."  "  These  hands  have  minis- 
tered unto  my  necessities,  and  to  them  that  were 
with  me.  I  have  showed  you  all  things,  how  that 
so  laboring  ye  ought  to  support  the  weak,  and  to 
remember  the  words  of  the  Lord  Jesus,  how  he 
said,  It  is  more  blessed  to  give  than  to  receive." 
Agreeably  with  these  sentiments,  the  man  who,  at 
one  time,  imagined  that  his  poverty  quite  exempt- 
ed kirn  from  the  obligations  of  charity,  and  only 
rendered  him  an  object  of  it,  is  no  sooner  made  the 
partaker  of  grace,  than  he  feels  himself  impelled 
to  place  some  offering  on  the  altar  of  Christian 
benevolence  ;  and,  with  the  ready  eye  and  hand  of 


SECTION    I.  236 

affection,  he  soon  detects,  for  this  end,  some  small 
superfluity  which  can  be  retrenched,  or  some  lei- 
sure time  which  can  be  profitably  employed.  And 
when  his  mite-like  offering,  the  fruit  of  hard  self- 
denial,  or  of  the  sweat  of  his  brow,  is  presented, 
nothing  could  inflict  on  his  grateful  heart  a  deeper 
wound  than  to  see  that  offering  rejected  on  the 
ground  of  its  comparative  insignificance,  or  of  his 
supposed  inability  to  give  it.  It  is  the  offering  of  a 
sinner's  gratitude  to  a  Saviour's  love,  and  heaven 
rejoices  over  the  oblation. 

A  well-digested  scheme  of  charity  will  be  con- 
siderate in  the  selection  of  its  objects.  The  benevo- 
lence which  has  not  prudence  for  its  almoner,  may 
create  the  evils  which  it  meant  to  destroy. 

If  there  be  any  danger  in  this  respect,  in  the 
present  day,  it  does  not  lie  so  much  in  the  choice 
of  wrong  objects,  as  in  the  neglect  of  some  right 
ones.  The  principles  of  benevolent  institutions  are 
now  so  well  understood  ;  every  new  candidate  for 
patronage  is  so  open  to  inspection,  and  the  streams 
of  charity  so  steadily  watched  from  their  rise  to 
the  point  of  their  destination,  that  there  is  little 
more  than  the  bare  possibility  of  any  benevolent 
institution  existing  long  in  a  state  of  abuse,  or  so 
as  to  generate  more  evil  than  good.  Whatever 


236  MAMMON. 

danger  now  exists,  arises  from  the  rapid  multipli- 
cation of  new  objects,  and  the  consequent  liability 
of  the  old  ones  to  desertion  ;  and  still  more,  per- 
haps, from  the  liability  of  those  minor  objects 
which  relate  exclusively  to  the  bodily  welfare  of 
man,  being  eclipsed  by  the  surpassing  grandeui 
and  magnitude  of  such  as  relate  to  the  infinite  and 
the  eternal. 

If,  fifty  years  ago,  a  patron  of  the  benevolent  in- 
stitutions of  that  day  could  have  been  foretold  of  the 
number,  the  magnitude,  and  the  revenues  of  the 
great  evangelical  societies  which  at  present  adorn 
our  land,  he  might  surely  have  been  excused  for 
fearing  that  the  objects  of  his  regard  would,  in 
consequence,  be  displaced  and  forgotten.  But  the 
event  has  shown  that  his  fears  would  have  been 
unfounded.  Experience  demonstrates,  that  the 
heart  which  responds  to  the  cries  of  a  world  pe- 
rishing through  lack  of  knowledge,  is  the  heart 
which  most  readily  thrills  at  the  cry  of  bodily 
want ;  that  those  who  care  most  for  the  souls  of 
the  heathen,  are  among  the  most  active  agents  of 
patriotic  and  local  charities  ;  that  genuine  Chris- 
tian charity,  while  it  leaves  no  object  unattempted 
on  account  of  its  vastness,  overlooks  none  on  ac« 
count  of  its  minuteness.  Copying,  in  this  respect, 


SECTION    I.  237 

the  example  of  Him,  who,  in  his  way  to  the  cross 
to  save  a  world,  often  stood  still  to  give  health  to 
the  sick,  and  to  wipe  away  the  tears  of  the  mourn- 
er ;  sowing,  at  each  step,  the  seeds  of  those  va- 
rious institutions  of  mercy  which  are  still  spring- 
ing up  in  his  church ;  and  who,  while  suspended 
on  the  cross,  in  the  crisis  of  human  redemption, 
still  thought  of  his  filial  relation,  and  tenderly  pro- 
vided for  a  mother's  comfort. 

But  the  limited  resources  of  the  Christian  phi- 
lanthropist, compared  with  the  number  and  diver- 
sity of  the  objects  soliciting  his  aid,  render  selec- 
tion indispensably  necessary.  On  the  one  hand,  he 
must  not  confine  his  regards  to  objects  purely  re- 
ligious, though  of  the  loftiest  and  most  compre- 
hensive order,  to  the  neglect  of  that  charity  which 
draws  out  its  soul  to  the  hungry,  and  which  visits 
the  fatherless  and  widow  in  their  affliction  ;  and,  on 
the  other,  he  must  not  limit  his  attentions  to  the 
wants  of  the  life  that  now  is,  and  remain  an  unin- 
terested spectator  of  the  efforts  which  are  made 
around  him  to  save  a  world  from  perdition.  The 
two  classes  of  objects  should  be  combined  in  his 
regards.  By  descending  to  the  one  class,  he  will 
be  keeping  his  benevolent  feelings  in  a  healthy, 
active,  vigorous  state  ;  and,  by  ascending  to  the 


238  MAMMON. 

other,  he  will  be  giving  them  scope  and  expansion, 
diffusing  and  multiplying  them  over  the  whole 
field  of  mercy.  By  a  wise  distribution  of  his  means 
he  may  connect  himself  with  all  the  objects  of  be- 
neficence, from  the  casual  relief  of  the  mendicant, 
to  the  combined,  systematic,  and  mighty  project 
of  the  Christian  church  to  make  the  Bible  the  book 
of  the  world.  And  as  he  marks  the  graduated  scale 
of  Christian  charities,  which  stands  between  these 
two  extremes,  he  will  conscientiously  consider 
which  are  the  charities  that  call  for  his  especial 
aid,  and  the  proportion  of  support  which  each 
demands. 

But  who  does  not  feel  that  the  era  of  effective 
Christian  benevolence  has  yet  to  commence  ]  Let 
him  sketch  the  most  simple  scheme  of  benevolence 
which  the  Gospel  can  approve,  and  he  will  per- 
ceive, at  every  step,  that  he  is  writing  the  condem- 
nation of  the  church.  Compared  with  the  time, 
indeed,  when  next  to  nothing  was  contributed  to 
the  cause  of  Christ,  we  may  now  be  said  to  give 
much  ;  but  compared  with  what  ought  to  be,  and 
with  what  we  are  persuaded  will  be,  consecrated 
to  God,  we  are  still  contributing  next  to  nothing. 
The  sentiment  of  the  church  on  the  subject  of  pro- 
perty, is,  as  yet,  very  little  elevated  above  that  of 


SECTION    I.  239 

the  world ;  deep-rooted  worldly  notions  have  yet 
to  be  eradicated  y  and  the  right  use  of  wealth,  in 
its  relation  to  the  cause  of  Christ,  to  be  taught  and 
enforced  as  an  essential  branch  of  Christian  prac- 
tice. The  great  lesson  taught  by  our  Lord's  volun- 
tary selection  of  a  state  of  poverty,  is  yet  to  be 
fully  understood;  the  evident  application  of  many 
plain  passages  of  Scripture  to  be  made  ;  doctrines, 
startling  to  selfishness,  to  become  familiar  and  wel- 
come ;  sentiments,  already  familiar,  to  be  enlarged 
and  practically  applied  ;  the  \vord  benevolence  itself 
to  be  differently  understood  ;  the  demon  of  cove- 
tousness  to  be  cast  out  of  the  church,  and  the 
whole  economy  of  benevolence  to  be  revised. 

And  who,  with  the  word  of  God  in  his  hand,  but 
must  feel  that  an  era  of  enlarged  Christian  liberality 
is  hastening  on?  Prophecy  is  full  of  it.  As  often 
almost  as  she  opens  her  lips  on  the  subject  of  Mes- 
siah's reign,  the  consecration  of  the  world's  wealth 
forms  part  of  her  song.  "  To  him  shall  be  given  of 
the  gold  of  Sheba."  "  The  merchandise  of  Tyre 
shall  be  holiness  to  the  Lord;  it  shall  not  be  trea- 
sured nor  laid  up."  "  Surely  the  isles  shall  wait 
for  me,  and  the  ships  of  Tarshish  first,  to  bring  thy 
sons  from  far,  their  silver  and  their  gold  with  them, 
unto  the  name  of  the  Lord  thy  God."  "  Kings 


240  MAMMON. 

shall  bring  presents  unto  him  ;"  "  they  shall  bring 
gold  and  incense;"  and  into  his  kingdom  n  they 
shall  bring  the  glory  and  honor  of  the  nations/' 
Wealth,  which  for  so  many  ages  had  robbed  him 
of  his  glory,  and  which  in  so  many  idolatrous 
forms  had  been  erected  in  his  stead,  shall  be 
brought  to  his  altar,  and  employed  as  the  fuel  of 
a  sacrifice  in  which  the  heart  shall  ascend  as  In- 
cense before  him.  It  will  then  be  felt  that  the 
highest  use  to  which  wealth  can  be  applied,  is  to 
employ  it  for  God ;  that-  this  is  the  only  way  to 
dignify  that  which  is  intrinsically  mean ;  to  turn 
that  which  is  perishing  into  unfading  crowns  and 
imperishable  wealth.  As  if  the  image  and  su- 
perscription of  Christ  instead  of  Caesar — as  if 
the  hallowed  impress  of  the  cross  itself  were 
visible  on  all  the  currency  of  earth,  his  people 
shall  look  on  all  their  wealth  as  the  property  of 
Christ,  and  be  constantly  meditating  the  means  of 
employing  it  most  advantageously  for  his  glory. 
In  wedding  his  church,  it  shall  then  be  felt  that  he 
wedded  her  wealth  also  ;  and,  bringing  it  forth, 
and  placing  it  at  his  feet  as  a  part  of  her  poor  un 
.worthy  dowry,  she  shall  wish  that,  for  his  sake,  if 
had  been  ten  thousand  times  ten  thousand  more. 
Now,  the  only  distinction  is  between  him  thai 


SECTION    I.  241 

gives  a  little,  and  him  that  gives  nothing ;  then  a 
new  classification  will  have  obtained.  There  will 
be  no  one  in  the  church  who  gives  nothing ;  his 
place  will  be  occupied  by  him  who  only  gives  lit- 
tle— by  which  will  be  meant  him  who,  whatever 
the  amount  of  his  gift  may  be,  gives  only  from  his 
superfluity;  while  the  honorable  title  of  the  be- 
nevolent will  be  reserved  for  such  only  as  deny 
themselves  in  order  that  they  may  give  more. 
Self-denial,  if  not  synonymous  with  benevolence, 
will  then  be  considered  an  essential  part  of  it.  He 
~who  gives  nothing,  will  be  looked  on  as  an  avowed 
enemy  to  the  cause  of  Christ ;  he  who  only  gives 
a  little  from  his  superfluity  will  be  considered  co- 
vetous ;  and  he  only  who  adds  to  his  superfluity 
the  precious  savings  of  self-denial  besides,  will  be 
honored  as  truly  charitable. 

The  Christian  will  then  look  on  himself  in  the 
light  of  a  channel  between  God  and  his  fellow- 
creatures — a  channel  prepared  expressly  for  re- 
ceiving and  conveying  the  overflowings  of  the  foun- 
tain of  goodness  to  those  around  him  ;  and,  accord- 
ingly, he  will  be  "  ready  to  distribute,  willing  to 
communicate."  Not  content  with  the  slender  sup- 
plies of  his  own  property,  he  will  seek  to  excite 
the  liberality  of  others  ;  to  become  their  almoner  j 

Mauimon.  1^ 


242  MAMMON. 

to  swell  the  streams  of  his  own  charity  by  the  con- 
tributions of  others.  And  thus  he  will  at  once  be 
the  means  of  keeping  the  benevolence  of  his  breth- 
ren in  activity  ;  of  bringing  greater  glory  to  God, 
and  of  doing  greater  good  to  the  world. 

The  Christian  parent  will  not  then  be  content 
with  teaching  his  children  the  art  of  getting  money 
most  easily  and  respectably,  or  of  spending  it  most 
advantageously  to  themselves ;  he  will  train  them 
to  habits  of  benevolence  ;  impress  them  early  with 
"  the  value  of  money  "  for  the  cause  of  Christ 
show  them,  that  in  its  subserviency  to  that  cause, 
consists  its  chief  value  ;  that  they  should  labor  with 
their  hands  rather  than  be  destitute  of  the  means 
of  giving.  He  will  make  it  an  indispensable  object 
of  their  education  to  render  them  proficients  in  the 
art  of  employing  their  substance  to  the  glory 
of  God. 

As  far  as  his  means  enable  him,  he  will  pray  only 
to  give,  and  give  only  to  pray.  His  every  prayer 
will  contain  a  petition  for  a  more  abundant  out- 
pouring  of  the  spirit  of  Christian  liberality  and  de- 
dication ;  and  the  very  feeling  which  impelled  him 
to  utter  the  petition,  shall  impel  him,  when  he 
rises  from  his  knees,  to  devise  liberal  things.  And 
then,  having  gratified  the  divine  impulse  to  the  ut- 


SECTION    I.  243 

most  extent  of  his  means,  lie  will  hasten  to  unload 
his  grateful  heart  before  God,  and  to  say,  "  Who 
am  I,  that  I  should  be  able  to  offer  so  willingly 
after  this  sort  ?  for  all  things  come  of  thee,  and  of 
thine  own  have  we  given  thee."  Nay,  could  he 
command  and  set  in  motion  all  the  benevolent 
agencies  in  the  universe,  the  same  godlike  motive 
which  led  him  to  do  so,  would  then  impel  him  to 
the  throne  of  God  to  obtain  his  efficacious  blessing 
upon  the  whole.  Having  put  all  human  agency  in 
requisition,  he  would  labor  and  wrestle,  in  prayer, 
to  engage  the  infinite  love  and  power  of  God. 

He  will  receive  every  accredited  applicant  for 
the  cause  of  Christ,  as  a  messenger  deputed  from 
Christ  himself.  And,  as  if  his  blessed  Lord  were 
standing  before  him,  and  saying,  "  I  am  hungry, 
will  you  not  feed  me  ]  I  am  thirsty,  will  you  not 
give  me  drink  1  I  am  a  stranger,  will  you  not  take 
me  in  1  My  cause  is  languishing  for  want  of  sup- 
port, will  you  not  aid  it  V  He  will  hasten  to  bring 
forth  his  all,  and  say,  "  O  Lord  my  God,  all  this 
store  cometh  of  thine  hand,  and  is  all  thine  own.'* 
In  doing  this,  indeed,  he  would  only  be  copying 
the  example  of  the  benevolent  widow ;  but  though 
that  example  received  the  sanction  of  Christ,  and 
as  such  was  intended  to  be  more  than  admired  by 


244 

ftis  church,  yet  wno  could  imitate  it  at  present, 
without  incurring,  not  from  the  world  only,  but 
from  the  great  majority  of  Christian  professors 
also,  the  blame  of  great  improvidence  1  But,  then, 
her  conduct  shall  be  regarded  as  exemplary  ,«  and 
the  Saviour  himself  will  undertake  the  defence  of 
her  imitators,  and  say,  "  They  loved  much,  for  they 
have  much  forgiven." 

Now,  the  Christian  professor  too  commonly  al- 
lows his  regular  contribution  to  check  his  liberality, 
to  prevent  his  giving  more  than  the  stipulated  sum, 
though  there  are  times  when  his  benevolent  im- 
pulses would  prompt  him  to  exceed  that  sum  ;  then 
he  will  reward  his  subscription  only  as  a  pledge 
that  he  will  not  give  less,  but  as  leaving  his  libera- 
lity open  to  all  the  impulses  of  an  unrestricted 
benevolence.  Now,  he  is  too  often  disposed  to  shun 
the  applications  for  charity  ;  and,  if  he  is  overlook- 
ed and  passed  by,  to  view  it  as  a  fortunate  escape  ; 
but  then  he  will  do  good  as  he  hath  opportunity — 
creating  the  opportunity  which  he  cannot  find  al- 
ready made  to  his  hands.  Now,  his  ability  exceeds 
his  inclination ;  but  then  his  inclination  will  be 
greater  than  his  ability  \  like  the  Macedonian  chris- 
tians,  of  whom  the  apostle  testifies,  "  I  bear  them 
record,  that  to  their  power,  yea,  and  beyond  their 


SECTION    I.  245 

power,  they  were  willing  of  themselves.'*  Instead 
of  being  charitable  only  on  comparative  distraint, 
he  will  often  anticipate  application,  and  surprise 
the  agents  of  beneficence  by  unexpected  gifts ; 
thus  strengthening  their  faith  in  God,  and  inciting 
them  to  enlarge  their  designs  for  the  kingdom  of 
Christ:  like  the  same  believers,  of  whom  the  apos- 
tle records,  that,  instead  of  needing  to  be  solicited, 
they  entreated  him  to  accept  their  contributions — 
"  praying  us  with  much  entreaty  to  accept  the 
gift."  Like  the  happy  parent  of  a  happy  family, 
he  will  hail  every  new-born  claim  on  his  resources, 
and  cheerfully  deny  himself  in  order  to  support  it. 
And,  instead  of  giving  as  he  now  does,  as  scantily 
as  if  he  only  aimed  to  keep  the  Christian  cause 
from  famishing,  he  will  then  acton  the  persuasion, 
that  his  own  enjoyment  is  identified  with  its  growth 
and  prosperity. 

And  let  it  not  be  supposed  that,  during  that 
happy  period,  it  will  be  necessary  to  the  support 
of  the  Christian  interest,  that  its  friends  should  live 
in  a  state  ?&  comfortless  self-denial.  The  prevalence 
of  the  benevolent  spirit  will  render  this  superflu- 
ous. When  the  thousand  drains  of  selfishness  are 
cut  off,  the  cause  of  Christ  will  easily  find  an 
abundance  from  his  friends,  and  will  leave  an 


246  MAMMON. 

abundance  to  them  all.  When  every  man  brings  his 
all  to  Christ,  every  man  will  be  able  to  take  away 
with  him  again  an  ample  supply  for  his  most  com  - 
fortable  subsistence.  When  every  fresh  convert  to 
Christ  becomes  a  willing  supporter  of  his  interest, 
the  accession  of  numbers  will  increase  its  supplies 
more  rapidly  than  its  wants. 

O,  happy  period  !  Holiness  to  the  Lord  shall  be 
written,  not  only  on  common  things,  but  on  those 
which  men  have  been  accustomed  most  jealously 
to  withhold  from  God,  and  to  consider  their  own. 
Even  the  mines  of  the  earth  shall,  in  a  sense,  be 
ceded  to  Christ ;  "  the  God  of  the  whole  earth 
shall  he  be  called ;"  and  "  every  one  shall  submit 
themselves  unto  him  with  pieces  of  silver."  He 
shall  be  considered  the  wise  man,  not  who  keeps 
most,  but  who  gives  most  to  God ;  and  the  hap 
piness  of  bestowing  shall  be  rated  above  the 
pleasure  of  acquiring.  Happy  period !  when  men, 
instead  of  making  gold  their  god,  shall  make  God 
their  gold  :  and  when  the  principles  of  benevo- 
lence shall  be  looked  on  as  a  science  taught  from 
heaven,  the  practice  of  which  is  necessary  to  con- 
duct them  to  heaven.  The  living  law  of  benevo- 
lence written  in  the  heart  will  operate  more  pow- 
erfully than  all  the  sumptuary  laws  which  were 


SECTION  II.  247 

ever  enacted  to  restrain  the  extravagance  of  so- 
ciety. The  cause  of  Christ  will  be  viewed  as  the 
only  safe  repository  of  wealth ;  as  the  great  IN- 
TEREST in  which  the  affluent  will  invest  their 
abundance,  and  in  which  the  poor  will  deposit 
their  mite,  assured  that  it  will  thus  augment,  to  a 
treasure  exceeding  their  powers  of  computation. 
And  wealth,  the  pernicious  influence  of  which 
some  of  the  wisest  of  men  have  feared  so  much 
that  they  have  prohibited  the  use  of  it  by  law — 
wealth,  the  great  embroiler  and  corrupter  of  the 
world,  will  be  employed  as  one  of  the  leading 
means  of  restoring  mankind  to  union  and  happi- 
ness ;  and  thus  Christ  will  triumph  over  the  enemy 
in  its  own  home  and  with  its  own  weapons. 


SECTION  II. 

Christian  lAberality  enforced* 

And  why  should  the  delightful  period  to  which 
we  have  adverted,  when  the  Gospel  theory  of  chris- 
tian  benevolence  shall  be  realized,  be  deemed  re- 


248  MAMMON. 

mote  ?  The  duties  of  that  period  are  the  duties  of 
every  period  ;  and,  therefore,  of  the  present.  The 
obligations  which  will  be  binding  then,  are  binding 
at  this  moment.  No  new  incitements  to  benevo- 
lence will  be  furnished  from  heaven.  The  great 
considerations  with  which  the  Gospel  has  long 
since  made  us  familiar,  are  the  identical  motives 
which  will  then  reign  and  triumph.  Remote,  there- 
fore, as  that  era  may  be  to  the  eye  of  the  indolent 
and  the  selfish,  the  consistent  believer  will  not 
think  of  waiting  for  its  arrival  before  he  begins  its 
duties  ;  he  will  feel  that  those  duties  are  all  pre- 
sent and  urgent.  May  a  review  of  the  tender  and 
weighty  considerations  by  which  they  are  enforced 
fill  him  with  generous  and  grateful  purposes,  such 
as  he  never  felt  before ;  and  may  God,  the  Holy 
Spirit,  the  Spirit  of  love  and  grace,  condescend  to 
breathe  on  him  the  breath  of  a  new  life,  that  he 
may  henceforth  live  only  to  carry  those  purposes 
into  effect  to  the  glory  of  Christ  his  Redeemer  ! 

In  every  question  of  duty,  your  first  inquiry, 
Christian  reader,  will  naturally  respect  the  will  of 
God.  Before  listening  to  any  other  consideration, 
you  will  lift  up  an  imploring  eye,  and  say,  "  Lord, 
what  wilt  thou  have  me  to  do  V-  Now  there  is 
no  subject  on  whbh  God  has  more  clearly  or 


SECTION    II.  249 

fully  revealed  liis  will  than  on  the  duty  of  Christian 
liberality. 

Think  of  the  right  which  he  has  in  all  you  pos- 
sess. There  is  a  sense  in  which  no  man  can  be  said 
to  possess  an  exclusive  and  irresponsible  right  in 
property,  even  in  relation  to  his  fellow-creatures. 
The  land  which  he  calls  Ms  own,  is  still  guarded 
and  watched  over  by  a  public  law  which  would 
hold  him  responsible  for  its  destruction.  But  if 
man  thus  claims  a  common  interest  in  the  most 
independent  description  of  property,  how  much 
more  does  God  hold  a  right  in  your  possessions  ] 
He  created  them  at  first ;  and  hence  he  has  ftn 
original  and  supreme  property  in  them.  The  world 
is  his,  and  the  fullness  thereof.  He  continues  them 
in  existence  every  moment ;  and  is  thus  every  mo- 
ment asserting  afresh  his  original  right,  and  estab- 
lishing a  new  title  to  dominion  over  them.  You 
have  not  brought  into  existence  a  single  mite ;  all 
that  you  have  done  is  to  collect  together  what  he 
had  made  ready  to  your  hands.  And  whence  did 
you  derive  the  skill  and  ability  to  do  this  ?  "  Thou 
must  remember  the  Lord  thy  God,  for  it  is  he  that 
giveth  thee  power  to  get  wealth."  Hence  he  cau- 
tions you  against  the  sin  of  saying  in  your  heart, 
"  My  power,  and  the  might  of  mine  own  hand,  hath 


250  MAMMON.  4 

gotten  me  this  wealth,"  lest  you  should  fall  into 
the  consequent  sin  of  forgetting  that  he  is  still  the 
supreme  proprietor  of  all  you  possess.  And  hence, 
too,  he  solemnly  reminds  you  that  your  enjoyments 
are  his  gifts,  only  in  the  sense  that  you  had  nothing 
wherewith  to  purchase  them,  and  not  in  the  sense 
that  he  has  given  away  his  right  in  them ;  that 
they  are  deposited  with  you  as  his  steward,  not 
alienated  from  him  arid  vested  in  you  as  their  mas- 
ter ;  that  both  they  and  you  are  his,  to  do  with  as 
seemeth  good  in  his  sight. 

The  moment  you  lose  sight,  therefore,  of  his  ab- 
solute right  to  all  you  possess,  you  are  embezzling 
your  Lord's  property,  and  realizing  the  character 
of  the  unjust  steward.  You  are  provoking  God  to 
resume  his  own,  and  to  transfer  it  to  more  faithful 
hands ;  whereas  he  looks  to  you  to  assert  his  do- 
minion in  the  midst  of  an  ungrateful  and  rebellious 
world.  The  purpose  for  which  he  created  you  at 
first,  and  for  which  he  has  created  you  anew  in 
Christ  Jesus,  is,  that  you  might  show  forth  his 
praise  before  a  world  laboring  to  forget  him  ;  that 
while  they  are  sullenly  and  impiously  appropriating 
every  thing  to  themselves,  as  if  he  had  ceased  to 
reign,  and  even  to  exist,  you  might  continually 
consecrate  and  offer  up  your  substance  before  their 


SECTION    II.  251 

eyes  as  an  oblation  to  his  glory,  and  thus  daily 
vindicate  his  claims,  as  the  fire  perpetually  burning 
upon  the  Jewish  altar  protested  daily  against  the 
idolatry  of  the  world,  and  proclaimed  the  one  liv- 
ing and  true  God.  And  will  you  not  do  this  ? 
Surely  you  will  not  go  over  and  join  the  party  you 
are  intended  to  condemn.  Surely  you  will  not  be- 
tray your  Lord,  and  enable  his  enemies  to  triumph. 
Then  hasten  to  his  throne,  and  acknowledge  his 
right.  Take  all  that  you  have  into  his  presence, 
and  dedicate  it  afresh  to  his  service.  Inscribe  his 
blessed  name  on  all  your  possessions. 

Think  of  the  great  goodness  you  enjoy  at  his 
hands.  His  tender  mercies  are  over  all  his  works  ; 
but  how  many  of  those  mercies  has  he  caused  to 
meet  upon  your  head  !  "  He  daily  loadeth  you 
with  his  benefits;"  and  will  you  bear  them  all 
away  from  his  presence,  to  consume  them  upon 
yourself?  Will  you  distribute  none  of  the  precious 
load  among  the  numerous  applicants  he  has  placed 
around  you1?  "  He  croumeth  thee  with  his  loving- 
kindness  and  tender  mercies  ;"  and  wearing  the 
crown  of  his  royal  favor,  his  sovereign  love,  will 
you  confine  its  light  to  yourself?  Will  you  not 
proclaim  and  honor  the  royalty  of  your  descent  by 
humbly  imitating  his  regal  munificence  and  grace  1 


252  MAMMON. 

He  has  placed  you  in  a  world  of  which  his  own 
description  is,  that  it  is  full  of  Ms  goodness — the 
treasury  of  the  material  universe.  Men  have  filled 
it  with  sin  ;  but  he,  notwithstanding,  keeps  it  filled 
with  his  goodness.  The  overflowing  fullness  of  the 
ocean — the  amplitude  of  the  all-encompassing  air — 
the  unconfined  plenitude  of  the  light — all  conspire 
to  attest  the  infinite  exuberance  of  his  bounty,  and 
to  surcharge  your  heart  with  corresponding  senti- 
ments of  goodness.  To  be  selfish  in  such  a  world 
is  one  of  the  greatest  triumphs  of  sin.  Covetous- 
ness  cannot  move  in  it  without  being  rebuked  at 
every  step.  Had  your  life  been  spent  till  to-day  in 
the  solitude  and  darkness  of  a  dungeon,  and  had 
you  now  just  come  forth  into  the  open  theatre  of 
the  vast  creation,  and  awoke  for  the  first  time  to 
the  full  consciousness  of  all  this  infinite  goodness, 
would  not  your  heart  enlarge  and  expand  with  all 
warm  and  generous  emotions  ?  Could  you  speedily 
indulge  in  selfishness  in  a  world  which  you  found 
supported  by  charity  ?  and  by  charity  so  abundant 
that  the  Divine  donor  seems  to  have  aimed  to  make 
the  sin  impossible  1  His  rain  would  surely  subdue 
you  into  the  spirit  of  love ;  his  sun  Would  melt 
you  into  kindness.  This  is  why  he  sheds  them  both 
upon  the  just  and  the  unjust.  And  will  you  not 


SECTION   II.  253 

aspire  to  be  like  him  1  "Will  you  not  become  the 
servant  of  his  love  to  his  creatures  ?  Can  you  live, 
day  after  day,  in  this  region  of  his  goodness-— can 
you  have  the  ennobling  conception  of  his  goodness 
occupying  your  mind  year  after  year — can  you  ac- 
tually call  yourself  a  son  of  this  good  and  gracious 
God,  an  heir  of  his  infinite  goodness,  and  yet  re- 
tain a  narrow,  selfish,  and  contracted  mind  1  The 
Lord  Jesus  himself  calls  on  you  to  be  merciful, 
even  as  your  Father  in  heaven  is  merciful. 

But,  hitherto,  we  have  been  standing  only  OR 
the  threshold  of  the  temple  of  his  goodness.  The 
great  display,  the  "  unspeakable  gift "  remains 
within.  Your  misery,  as  a  sinner,  had  excited  his 
compassion  ;  your  guilt  demanded  a  sacrifice  ;  your 
spiritual  destitution  had  nothing  to  offer.  Approach 
the  altar  of  sacrifice,  and  behold  the  substitute 
which  his  grace  provides.  "God  so  loved  the 
world,  that  he  gave  his  only  begotten  Son." 
"  Herein  is  love !"  The  universe  is  crowded 
with  proofs  of  his  beneficence  ;  but  here  is  a  proof 
which  outweighs  them  all.  How  much  he  loved  us 
we  can  never  compute;  we  have  no  line  with 
which  to  fathom,  no  standard  with  which  to  com- 
pare it,  but  he  so  loved  us  that  he  sent  his  only 
begotten  Son  to  be  the  propitiation  for  our  sins. 


254  MAMMON. 

-  V  Herein  is  love  !"  "  Thanks  be  unto  God  for  his 
unspeakable  gift !" 

And  while  you  are  standing  in  the  presence  of 
this  matchless  display  of  love,  "  what  doth  the  Lord 
require  of  thee  V9  For  yourself,  he  invites  you  to 
accept  that  love  and. be  happy.  And  in  relation  to 
your  fellow-men,  he  only  requires  that  the  stream 
of  gratitude,  which  his  great  love  has  drawn  from 
your  heart,  should  be  poured  into  that  channel  in 
which  a  tide  of  mercy  is  rolling  through  the  world, 
and  bearing  blessings  to  the  nations.  He  who  for 
your  sake  gave  his  Son,  asks  you  for  his  sake  to 
give  of  your  worldly  substance  to  the  cause  of  hu- 
man happiness.  He  asks  you,  Christian,  to  cast  in 
your  mite  into  that  treasury  into  which  he  hath 
given  his  Son,  and  poured  all  the  blessings  of  his 
grace* 

Nor  is  this  all :  he  invites  you  to  advance  from 
the  altar  of  sacrifice  to  the  holiest  of  all  within  the 
veil ;  in  other  words,  he  hath  given  you  Christ,  that 
he  may  give  you  himself.  It  was  by  wandering 
from  him  that  man  first  became  selfish  and  un- 
happy. It  was  by  losing  him  that  man  was  reduced 
to  the  necessity  of  looking  for  happiness  in  the 
creature.  And,  because  no  single  kind  of  created 
good  can  satisfy  the  soul,  man  sought  to  accumu^ 


SECTION    II.  255 

late  all  kinds,  to  monopolize  every  thing — 4ie  be- 
came selfish.  He  is  disposed  to  look  on  every  thing 
which  another  enjoys,  as  so  much  lost  to  himself; 
as  so  much  taken  away  from  what  might  otherwise 
have  fallen  to  his  own  share  ;  and  thus  he  is  sel- 
fish. But  the  blessed  God,  by  offering  to  bring  you 
back  again  to  himself,  is  offering  to  make  you  in- 
dependent of  all  inferior  things  ;  to  put  you  in 
possession  of  a  good  which  shall  enable  you  to  look 
down  with  disdain  on  those  things  about  which 
others  are  selfish ;  to  lead  you  to  an  infinite  good ; 
a  good,  therefore,  about  which  you  need  not  be  sel- 
fish ;  for  were  all  the  universe  to  share  and  enjoy 
it  with  you,  it  would  still  be  an  unexhausted,  infi- 
nite fullness  of  happiness.. 

Now,  let  the  most  miserly  individual  come  sud- 
denly into  the  possession  of  great  wealth,  he  would 
be  conscious,  at  least  for  a  short  time,  of  kind  and 
generous  emotions.  What  then  should  be  your 
emotions  at  discovering,  that,  through  Christ,  you 
have  found  a  God  1  and  think,  what  a  God  he  is  ! 
Enumerate  his  perfections  ;  call  up  in  your  mind 
his  exalted  attributes  ;  recollect  some  of  the  dis- 
plays of  his  glory,  the  splendors  of  his  throne,  the 
amplitude  of  his  dominions,  the  angelic  orders  of 
his  kingdom,  the  richness  of  his  gifts,  the  untouch- 


256  MAMMON. 

ed  ocean  of  happiness  yet  in  reserve  for  his  peo- 
ple ;  and  when  your  mind  is  filled,  repeat  to  your- 
self the  wondrous  truth,  "  This  God  is  my  God  for 
ever  and  ever."  And  then  think  what  it  is  to  have 
him  for  your  God  :  it  is  to  have  a  real,  participa- 
ting, eternal  interest  in  all  that  he  is ;  to  have  him 
for  your  "  all  in  all ;"  to  be  "  filled  with  all  the 
fullness  of  God." 

Christian,  are  you  aware  of  your  wealth  ?  Have 
you  yet  awoke  to  a  conscious  possession  of  your 
infinite  wealth  ?  and  is  it  possible  that  you  can  still 
cleave  to  the  poor  and  perishing  dross  of  the  earth  1 
What,  shall  the  accession  of  infinite  wealth  make 
no  difference  in  your  conduct  1  Will  you  be  as  co- 
vetous with  a  God  as  without  1  Do  you  not  feel, 
rather,  that  you  could  give  away  the  world  itself 
as  a  trifle,  while  you  stand  and  gaze  at  these  infi- 
nite riches  1  All  who  have  truly  and  fully  returned 
to  God  have  felt  thus.  They  lost  their  selfishness. 
They  gazed  on  this  glory,  and  the  world  was 
eclipsed  \  they  thought  of  it,  and  their  heart  be- 
came too  large  for  earth ;  they  reached  after  it, 
and  the  world  fell  from  their  hands,  from  their 
hearts.  Having  found  the  true  source  of  happi- 
ness, they  would  fain  have  had  all  mankind  to 
come  and  share  it  with  them.  And  when  he  com- 


SECTION    II. 

aaanded  them  to  call  the  world  to  come  to  him  and 
be  happy,  they  gave  away  every  thing,  even  life  it- 
self, in  the  noble  employ,  and  from  love  to  his  name. 
The  obligations  which  his  love  has  laid  you 
under  are  as  great  as  theirs.  But  how  much  less, 
it  is  to  be  feared,  have  you  felt  them.  And  yet 
they  felt  them  less  than  their  magnitude  would 
have  warranted.  For  when  their  emancipated 
spirits  had  ascended  from  the  scene  of  martyrdom 
to  heaven — when  they  there  awoke  to  a  clear  per- 
ception of  the  hell  they  had  escaped,  and  the 
glories  they  had  reached — even  he  among  them 
who  on  earth  had  been  most  alive  to  a  sense  of  his 
obligations,  would  feel  as  if  he  then  felt  them  of 
the  first  time.  And  is  all  that  weight  of  obligation 
at  this  moment  resting  upon  you  ?  O,  where  are 
the  numbers  which  shall  compute  it  1  What  is  the 
period  long  enough  to  recount  it  ]  "  What  can  you 
render  unto  the  Lord  for  all  his  benefits  V9  What 
sacrifices  can  you  devise  costly  enough  to  express 
your  sense  of  them  ?  Christian,  could  you  have 
supposed  that  your  property  would  be  accepted  as 
one  of  those  sacrifices  ?  Had  he  not  condescended 
to  invite  the  offering,  could  you  have  imagined 
that  any  amount,  or  any  employment,  of  earthly 
vr«alth  would  have  been  accepted  by  him  ]  It  is 

Mammon.  IT 


258  MAMMON. 

one  of  the  lowest  expressions  of  love  you  can  give ; 
yet  he  accepts  even  that.  Though  there  is  no  pro- 
portion whatever  between  the  debt  you  owe  him, 
and  all  the  wealth  of  the  world,  he  yet  conde- 
scends to  regard  the  smallest  fraction  of  that 
wealth  as  an  expression  of  your  love  to  his  name, 
Let  this,  then,  dignify  wealth  in  your  eyes  :  value 
it  henceforth  on  this  account,  that  the  Lord  will 
accept  it  at  your  hands  as  an  offering  of  love. 
Rejoice  that  you  have  found  out  an  oblation  which 
he  will  accept  short  of  the  sacrifice  of  your  life. 
Be  thankful,  though  you  may  have  but  little  with 
which  to  present  him.  Practise  self-denial,  that 
you  may  make  that  little  more.  Seek  out  the  right 
objects  for  it,  the  objects  which  you  deem  to  be 
the  dearest  in  his  sight.  Give  to  them  all  you 
can ;  for  could  you  give  ten  thousand  times  more, 
your  obligations  would  go  on  increasing  infinitely 
faster  than  your  gifts.  They  are  multiplying  on 
you  even  while  you  are  in  the  act  of  giving.  Give 
under  a  grateful  sense  of  your  obligations;  arid 
you  will  feel  that  giving  itself  is  a  benefit ;  that  it 
is  an  act  in  which  you  receive  more  than  you 
render. 

But  to  increase  your  incentives  to  charity,  youi 
heavenly  Father  has  laid  on  you  his  divine  cam 


SECTION   II.  259 

mands.  He  charges  it  upon  you  that  you  "  do  good 
unto  all  men  ;"  that  you  "  put  on  bowels  of  mercy ;" 
that  you  ff  abound"  in  the  grace  of  "  liberality;" 
that  you  "  be  ready  to  distribute,  willing  to  com- 
municate." And  in  saying  this,  he  is  only  com- 
manding you  to  be  happy,  and  to  communicate 
happiness.  He  has  often  represented  charity  in  his 
word  as  equivalent  with  relative  righteousness ; 
by  which  he  would  intimate  that  it  is  a  principal 
part  of  such  righteousness.  Where  the  second  ta- 
ble of  the  law  is  abridged,  and  its  duties  summed 
up  in  a  few  words,  charity  is  not  only  never  omit- 
ted, but  always  takes  the  lead.  In  all  general  de- 
scriptions of  piety,  the  practice  of  this  duty  is  spe- 
cified as  a  chief  element.  It  is  declared  to  be  the 
most  acceptable  expression  of  our  love  to  God. 
The  choicest  blessing,  blessedness  itself,  the  es- 
sence of  all  blessings  combined,  is  promised  to  it. 
And  in  the  last  great  day,  when  the  Son  of  Man 
shall  sit  in  judgment  on  the  world,  the  presence  or 
absence  of  Christian  benevolence  is  described  by 
our  Lord  as  determining  the  destinies  of  men.  Now 
these  ere  only  so  many  methods  by  which  God 
would  render  the  expression  of  his  will  the  more 
emphatical,  and  urge  us  to  obey  it. 

In  consecrating  your  substance  to  him,  then,  you 


260  MAMMON. 

will  be  not  only  gratifying  your  sense  of  obligation, 
you  will  feel  also  that  you  are  obeying  the  will  of 
your  God  on  a  subject  on  which  he  is  most  earnest 
and  express.  And  what  should  furnish  a  stronger 
impulse,  or  yield  you  higher  delight,  than  this  1  In 
heaven  his  will  is  the  only  motive  to  obedience 
which  is  necessary.  And  will  you  not  rejoice  in  an 
occasion  which  joins  you  with  angels  in  "  doing  his 
commandments  V  Hasten,  then,  to  take  your  offer- 
ing before  him  :  he  is  waiting  the  presentation  of 
your  gift.  The  hand  of  his  holy  law  is  laid  upon  a 
portion  of  your  property ;  surely  you  will  not  think 
of  taking  any  of  that  portion  away ;  rather,  add  to 
it ;  let  him  see  that  your  love  is  not  so  easily  satis- 
fied as  is  his  law;  that  your  gratitude  goes  beyond 
his  command ;  that  were  it  possible  for  his  law  to 
be  repealed,  the  love  which  you  bear  to  his  blessed 
name  would  still  be  a  law  constantly  demanding 
fresh  sacrifices  for  his  altar. 

In  its  inculcations  of  beneficence,  the  Bible  ap- 
peals to  a  principle  of  well-regulated  self-interest. 
Instead  of  taking  it  for  granted  that  we  should  be 
enamored  of  duty  for  its  own  sake  alone,  our  hea- 
venly Father  evinces  the  kindest  consideration  of 
our  fallen  condition,  by  accompanying  his  com- 
mands with  appropriate  promises  and  blessings, 


SECTION   II.  261 

_ 

He  graciously  allures  us  to  cultivate  the  tree  of 
Christian  charity,  by  engaging  that  all  its  fruit  shall 
be  our  own.  "  He  who  soweth  bountifully  shall 
reap  also  bountifully."  "  God  is  not  unrighteous, 
to  forget  your  work  and  labor  of  love." 

The  most  marked  interpositions  and  signal 
blessings  even  of  earthly  prosperity  have  attended 
the  practice  of  Christian  liberality  in  every  age. 
Volumes  might  easily  be  filled  with  well-attested 
instances  of  the  remarkable  manner  in  which  God 
has  honored  and  rewarded  those  who  in  faith  and 
obedience  have  devoted  their  property  to  him. 
Alas  !  that  the  Christian  church  should  feel  so  little 
interest  in  recording  such  instances  to  the  glory  of 
its  Lord !  that  we  should  be  so  slow  of  heart  to 
believe  them  when  they  are  recorded  ! — for  what 
do  they  prove,  but  only  that  God  is  not  unrighte- 
ous to  forget  his  promises  1 — and  that  his  people 
should  give  him  so  little  opportunity  of  illustrating 
his  paternal  character  by  trusting  their  temporal 
affairs  more  completely  to  his  hands ! 

Spiritual  prosperity  is  inseparable  from  Christian 
liberality.  For  "  God  loveth  a  cheerful  giver :  and 
God  is  able  to  make  all  grace  abound  towards  you  ; 
that  ye,  always  having  all  sufficiency  in  all  things, 
may  abound  to  every  good  work."  As  often  as 


202  MAMMON. 

you  practise  this  duty  in  an  evangelical  spirit,  you 
must  be  conscious  that  the  best  part  of  your  sanc- 
tified nature  is  called  into  exercise ;  your  heart  is 
partially  discharged  of  its  remaining  selfishness ; 
your  mind  is  braced  more  for  Christian  activity; 
your  sympathy  causes  you  to  feel  afresh  your  al- 
liance with  man  ;  your  beneficence  enables  you  to 
rejoice  in  your  union  of  spirit  with  Christ,  and 
adds  a  new  bond  to  that  power  of  affection  which 
binds  you  to  his  cause.  And  while  other  duties 
bring  you  nearer  to  Christ,  this  may  be  said  at 
once  to  place  you  by  his  side,  and  to  exalt  you  into 
a  real  though  humble  imitator  of  his  divine  bene- 
volence. 

The  Christian,  moreover,  is  assured  that  the 
property  which  he  devotes  to  God  is  SQ  much 
treasure  laid  up  in  heaven,'  so  much  seed  des- 
tined to  fructify  into  a  harvest  of  eternal  enjoy- 
ment. Christian,  would  you  render  your  pro- 
perty secure  ?  place  it  in  the  hand  of  omnipotent 
Faithfulness.  Retain  it  in  your  own  possession, 
and  it  is  the  proper  emblem  of  uncertainty;  but 
devote  it  to  God,  and  from  that  moment  it  is 
stamped  with  his  immutability,  his  providence 
becomes  your  estate,  and  his  word  your  unfailing 
security.  Would  you  enjoy  your  substance  ?  "  Give 


SECTION    II.  263 

alms  of  such  things  as  you  have ;  and,  behold  all 
things  are  clean  unto  you."  The  oblation  of  your 
first  fruits  unto  God  will  cleanse,  and  sanctify, 
and  impart  a  superior  relish  to  all  you  possess. 
Like  the  first  Christians,  you  will  then  eat  your 
meet  with  gladness  and  singleness  of  heart.  Would 
you  increase  your  property  1  "  Honor  the  Lord 
with  thy  substance,  so  shall  thy  barns  be  filled 
with  plenty,  and  thy  presses  shall  burst  out  with 
new  wine."  "  For  this  thing  the  Lord  thy  God 
shall  bless  thee  in  all  thy  works,  and  in  all  that 
thou  puttest  thine  hand  unto."  Sow  your  sub- 
stance, then,  as  seed  in  the  hand  of  Christ,  that 
hand  which  fed  the 'multitude  with  a  morsel,  and 
which  multiplies  whatever  it  touches  with  its  own 
infinite  bounty.  Would  you  grow  in  grace  ?  in 
love  and  likeness  to  Christ  1  Would  you  increase 
with  all  the  increase  of  God  ]  and  abound  in  the 
fruits  of  the  Spirit  ?  "  The  liberal  soul  shall  be 
made  fat,  and  he  that  watereth  shall  be  watered 
also  himself."  Would  you  be  rich  for  eternity  ? 
Would  you  cultivate  "  fruit  that  may  abound  to 
your  account "  in  the  invisible  world  1  Invest  your 
property  in  the  cause  of  Christ ;  and  he  engages 
to  requite  you, — not,  indeed,  as  of  debt ;  this  the 
magnitude  of  the  requital  shows,  but  of  his  own 


264  MAMMON. 

exuberant  munificence,— he  promises  to  repay  you 
a  hundred-fold  in  the  present  life,  and  in  the  world 
to  come  life  everlasting.  As  much  of  your  pro- 
perty as  you  have  already  devoted  to  him,  how- 
ever humbly  you  may  think  of  it,  is  regarded  and 
watched  over  by  him  as  "  a  good  foundation  laid 
up  against  the  time  to  come,  that  you  may  lay 
hold  on  eternal  life."  And  all  that  you  may  here- 
after cast  into  his  treasury,  shall  certain-ly  precede 
your  arrival  in  heaven,  and  there  be  converted  for 
you  into  incorruptible  treasures  "  to  the  praise  of 
the  glory  of  his  grace." 

Is  the  welfare  of  your  posterity  an  ob'[  tf  ]  The 
parent  who  makes  this  an  excuse  for  robbing  the 
cause  of  God  of  its  due,  is  defrauding  his  offspring 
of  God's  blessing,  entailing  on  them  the  divine 
displeasure,  leaving  them  heirs  of  the  punishment 
which  his  own  robbery  of  God  has  deserved. 
This  is  improvidence  of  the  most  awful  kind.  But 
let  your  regard  for  their  wants  be  combined  with 
a  proportionate  regard  for  the  claims  of  benevo- 
lence, and  you  will  be  demising  to  your  offspring 
that  rich,  that  inexhaustible  inheritance,  the  inhe- 
ritance of  God's  blessing.  Providence  will  look  on 
them  as  its  own  wards ;  will  care  for  them  as  Us 
own  children. 


SECTION    II.  265 

• 

Do  you  desire  to  be  remembered,  to  enjoy  last- 
ing fame  1  "  The  righteous  shall  be  had  in  evei- 
lasting  remembrance."  "  The  memory  of  the  just 
is  blessed."  And  here,  by  the  righteous  and  the 
just  is  to  be  understood  especially  the  bountiful. 
His  memory  is  followed  with  commendations  into 
the  presence  of  God.  His  character  is  embalmed 
in  its  own  piety.  His  name  passes  with  commen- 
dation through  the  lips  of  God,  and  that  gives  it 
immortality.  His  benevolence  resulted  from  the 
grace  of  God;  and,  as  such,  the  honor  of  God  is 
concerned  in  making  its  memory  immortal. 

Wou^you  acquire  a  right  in  your  property  ?  a 
right  which  shall  justify  you  in  calling  it  your  own  1 
By  withholding  it  from  God,  you  are  forfeiting  all 
interest  in  it,  and  laying  yourself  open  to  the 
charge  of  embezzlement  and  fraud.  But  by  de- 
voting it  to  his  service,  you  would  be  acquiring  an 
everlasting  interest  in  it;  for  you  would  never 
cease  to  enjoy  the  good  resulting  from  its  divine 
employment.  Hence  the  solution  of  the  epitaph 
of  a  charitable  man,  "  What  I  retained  I  have 
lost,  what  I  gave  away  remains  with  me." 

By  the  practice  of  Christian  liberality,  the  glory 
of  God  and  the  _  credit  of  religion  are  promoted  ; — 
and  what  object  should  be  of  more  precious  and 


266  MAMMON. 

abiding  concern  to  the  believer  than  this?  "  The 
ministration  of  this  service  not  only  supplieth  the 
want  of  the  saints,  but  is  abundant  also  by  many 
thanksgivings  unto  God :  while  by  the  experiment 
of  this  ministration  they  glorify  God  for  your  pro- 
fessed subjection  unto  the  Gospel  of  Christ,  and  for 
your  liberal  distribution  unto  them  and  to  all  men." 
The  new-born  liberality  of  the  first  chrislians  for 
the  support  of  their  needy  brethren  threw  the 
church  into  a  holy  transport  of  delight.  It  was 
bringing  the  benevolent  power  of  Christianity  to 
the  test ;  and,  as  a  masterpiece  of  human  mechan- 
ism, when  tried  and  found  "to  exceed  expecta- 
tion, fills  the  beholders  with  delight — the  result 
of  "  the  experiment  of  this  ministration  "  was  such 
as  to  call  forth  songs  of  exultation  to  the  glory  of 
God.  It  displayed  the  Gospel  in  a  new  aspect, 
brought  to  light  its  benevolent  energies,  showed 
them  that  much  as  they  knew  of  its  virtues,  it  con- 
tained hidden  excellencies  which  it  would  require 
time  and  circumstances  to  evolve  and  display:  it 
filled  the  church  with  a  chorus  of  praise  to  the 
glory  of  God. 

For  what  but  his  grace  could  produce  such  libe- 
rality 1  it  was  supernatural ;  the  apostle,  therefore, 
emphatically  denominates  it  the  grace  of  God.  So 


SECTION    II.  267 

spontaneous  and  munificent  was  it,  that  it  resem- 
bled the  gifts  of  his  grace.  So  purely  did  it  result 
from  love  to  the  brethren,  from  the  overflowings 
of  tender  compassion  for  their  wants,  that  it  was 
truly  godlike.  So  unparalleled  and  unworldly  an 
act  was  it,  that  the  grace  of  God  alone  could  pro- 
duce it.  It  was  grace  from  the  Fountain,  flowing 
forth  in  streams  of  liberality  through  the  channels 
of  his  people.  As  if  it  were  the  noblest  form  that 
the  love  of  God  could  take  in  his  people,  he  con- 
fers on  it  this  crowning  title,  the  grace  of  God. 
And,  indeed,  it  would  be  easy  to  show  that  there 
is  scarcely  any  duty  so  purely  the  result  of  grace 
as  genuine  Christian  liberality;  that  the  practice 
t*f  it  on  any  thing  like  the  primitive  scale,  requires 
more  grace,  and  exercises  and  illustrates  a  greater 
number  of  the  principles  of  piety,  than  almost  any 
other  duty.  The  church  cannot  witness  it  without 
being  strongly  reminded  of  her  high  descent,  her 
unearthly  character ;  without  falling  down  afresh 
before  the  throne  of  Him  whose  constraining  love 
thus  triumphs  over  the  selfishness  of  humanity. 
The  world  cannot  witness  it  without  feeling  its 
own  selfishness  condemned,  without  secretly  bow- 
ing to  the  divinity  of  religion. 

Christian,  would  you  enjoy  the  most  endearing 


268  MAMMON. 

evidences  of  your  heavenly  Father's  love  1  place 
your  property  at  his  disposal,  and  daily  trust  him 
for  daily  provision.  If  his  character  be  paternal, 
your  character  should  be  filial ;  and  the  leading 
feature  of  that  is  unlimited  dependence.  Would 
you  honor  him  in  his  church  ]  copy  the  example 
of  "the  churches  of  Macedonia"  in  their  abundant 
liberality ;  and  you  will  provoke  some  of  your 
fellow-christians  to  emulation,  and  send  others 
with  grateful  hearts  into  the  presence  of  God,  and 
assist  in  enlarging  the  sphere  of  evangelical  labor, 
and  raise  the  standard  of  Christian  piety,  and  cause 
the  church  of  Christ  to  resound  with  the  high 
praises  of  his  constraining  love.  And  would  you 
glorify  God  before  the  world  ]  Let  the  light  of 
your  Christian  liberality  shine  before  men.  Not 
only  practise  the  duty,  but  practise  it  on  such  a 
scale  as  shall  proclaim  to  them  the  existence  of  a 
superintending  Providence,  and  convince  them  of 
your  reliance  on  its  care.  Devise  liberal  things  for 
the  cause  of  God,  and  you  will  thus  be  asserting 
the  controversy  of  your  heavenly  Father  with  an 
unbelieving  world  ;  vindicating  and  attesting  the 
faithfulness  of  his  word,  the  watchfulness  of  his 
love,  and  the  benevolent  power  of  his  holy  Gospel. 
Withdraw  your  trust  from  those  goods  in  which 


SECTION    II. 


the  ungodly  confide,  resign  them  to  God,  and  you 
will  be  affording  him  an  occasion  for  displaying  his 
paternal  love.  He  charges  you  to  be  careful  for 
nothing,  that  he  may  evince  his  carefulness  of  you. 
Of  the  poor  it  is  said,  that  he  who  oppresseth 
them  reproacheth  his  Maker  ;  —  charges  God  with 
injustice  for  permitting  them  to  be  -poor,  and  for 
devolving  their  maintenance  on  him  ;  insults  God 
in  the  person  of  the  poor,  by  refusing  to  charge 
himself  with  the^are  of  them,  though  sent  to  him 
with  promises  direct  from  God.  And  thus,  though 
God  meant  to  employ  the  rich  as  his  agents  for  the 
poor,  to  bind  them  to  each  other  by  the  constant 
interchange  of  gratitude  and  benevolence,  and  to 
illustrate  and  honor  his  providential  government, 
the  selfishness  of  man  frustrates  his  plans,  and 
turns  his  honor  into  a  reproach.  In  a  very  similar 
manner  he  has  devolved  the  Christian  interest  on 
his  people,  and  the  world  is  watching  their  con- 
duct in  relation  to  it.  If  they  treat  it  as  a  burden, 
God  will  deem  himself  reproached;  but  let  them 
meet  its  demands,  and  enrich  it  with  their  liberali- 
ty, and  the  power  of  his  Gospel  and  the  wisdom 
of  his  arrangements  will  be  seen,  the  world  will 
render  him  the  homage  of  its  silent  admiration, 
and  his  church  will  triumph  in  every  place. 


270  MAMMON. 

The  great  Gospel  argument  for  Christian  libe- 
rality is  the  divine  example  of  the  Redeemer's  love. 
"  Hereby  perceive  we  his  love," — as  if  every  other 
display  of  love  were  eclipsed  by  the  effulgence  of 
this ;  as  if  all  possible  illustrations  of  love  were 
summed  up  in  this, — "  Hereby  perceive  we  his 
love,  because  he  laid  down  his  life  for  us  :  and  we 
ought  to  lay  down  our  lives  for  the  brethren.'* 
"  But  whoso  hath  this  world's  goods,  and  seeth  his 
brother  have  need,  and  shutteth^ip  his  bowels  of 
compassion  from  him,  how  dwelleth  the  love  of 
God  in  him  V  How  can  the  love  of  Christ  inhabit 
that  bosom  which  is  a  stranger  to  sympathy  for  his 
people  ]  111  indeed  does  he  pretend  readiness  to 
die  for  Christ,  who  will  not  give  a  little  money 
towards  the  support  of  his  cause  and  people. 

When  the  Apostle  Paul  would  enjoin  the  Philip- 
pians  to  "  look  not  every  man  on  his  own  things, 
but  every  man  also  on  the  things  of  others,"  he 
points  them  to  "  the  mind  which  was  also  in  Christ 
Jesus  :  who,  being  in  the  form  of  God,  thought  it 
not  robbery  to  be  equal  with  God  :  but  made  him- 
self of  no  reputation,  and  took  upon  him  the  form 
of  a  servant,  and  was  made  in  the  likeness  of  men : 
and,  being  found  in  fashion  as  a  man,  he  humbled 
himself,  and  became  obedient  unto  death,  even  tho 


SECTION   II.  271 

death  of  the  cross."  He  does  not  content  himself 
with  merely  stating  the  fact  of  our  Lord's  conder 
scension  and  death ;  but,  as  if  he  loved  to  linger  on 
the  subject,  he  traces  it  from  stage  to  stage :  as  if 
the  immensity  of  the  stoop  which  Christ  made  were 
too  great  to  be  comprehended  at  once,  he  divides 
it  into  parts,  and  follows  him  downwards  from 
point  to  point,  till  he  has  reached  the  lowest  depth 
of  his  humiliation.  As  if  he  felt  convinced  that  the 
amazing  spectacle,  if  duly  considered,  could  not 
fail  to  annihilate  selfishness  in  every  other  heart, 
as  it  had  in  his  own,  the  only  anxiety  he  evinces  is 
that  it  should  be  seen,  be  vividly  presented  before 
the  eye  of  the  mind.  Having  carried  our  thoughts 
up  to  that  infinite  height  where  Christ  had  been 
from  eternity  in  the  bosom  of  the  Father,  he  shows 
us  the  Son  of  God  divesting  himself  of  his  glory ; 
and  then,  he  detains  our  eye  in  a  prolonged  gaze 
on  his  descending  course  ;  condescending  to  be 
born  ;  voluntarily  subjecting  himself  to  all  the  hum- 
bling conditions  of  our  nature ;  taking  on  himselt 
the  responsibilities  of  a  servant ;  still  humbling  him- 
self, still  passing  from  one  depth  of  ignominy  to  a 
lower  still ;  becoming  obedient  unto  death ;  and 
that  death  the  most  humbling,  the  most  replete 
with  agony  and  shame,  the  death  of  the  cross. 


272  MAHMC  N. 

Christian,  can  you  ever  contemplate  tins  won- 
derful exhibition  without  renewed  emotions  of 
love  1  without  feeling  afresh  that  you  are  not  your 
own  1  And  say,  ought  such  grace  in  Christ,  to  be 
requited  with  parsimony  in  his  followers  1  Ought 
such  a  Master  to  be  served  by  grudging  and  covet- 
ous servants  1  Ought  such  a  Savior  to  have  to  com- 
plain that  those  who  have  been  redeemed,  and 
who  know  they  have  been  redeemed,  not  with  cor- 
ruptible things,  such  as  silver  and  gold,  but  with 
his  own  most  precious  blood,  are  so  much  attached 
to  that  corruptible  wealth,  that  they  will  not  part 
with  it  though  urged  by  the  claims  of  that  most 
precious  blood  ]  O,  shame  to  humanity !  O,  re- 
proach to  the  Christian  name  !  Be  concerned,  Chris- 
tian, to  wipe  off  the  foul  stain.  Bring  forth  your 
substance,  and  spread  it  before  him.  Were  you  to 
give  up  all  to  him,  would  it  be  very  reprehensible, 
or  very  unaccountable,  considering  that  he  gave  up 
all  for  you  ?  At  least,  economize  for  Christ.  Re- 
trench, retrench  your  expenditure,  that  you  may 
be  able  to  increase  your  liberality.  Deny,  deny 
yourself  for  his  cause,  as  you  value  consistency,  as 
you  profess  to  be  a  follower  of  him,  "  who  his  own 
self  bare  our  sins  in  his  own  body  on  the  tree." 

In  his  second  epistle  to  the  Corinthians  we  find 


the  apostle  enforcing  the  practice  of  Christian  libe* 
rality ;  and  various  and  cogent  are  the  motives 
which  he  adduces  to  excite  their  benevolence.  Bui 
we  might  rest  assured,  that  it  would  not  he  long 
Oefore  he  introduced  the  motive  of  our  Lord's  ex- 
ample. The  love  of  Christ  was  the  actuating  prin- 
ciple of  his  own  conduct ;  it  influenced  him  more 
than  all  other  motives  combined.  If  ever  his  ardor 
in  the  path  of  duty  flagged  for  a  moment,  he 
glanced  at  the  cross,  thought  of  the  great  love 
wherewith  Christ  had  loved  him,  and  instantly 
girded  on  his  zeal  afresh.  In  addressing  others, 
therefore,  he  never  failed  to  introduce  this  motive  ; 
he  relied  on  it  as  his  main  strength ;  he  brought  it 
to  bear  upon  them  in  all  its  subduing  and  con- 
straining force. 

And  how  tender,  how  pointed,  how  melting  the 
appeal  which  he  makes  !  "Ye  know  the  grace  of 
our  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  that,  though  he  was  rich, 
yet  for  your  sakes  he  became  poor,  that  ye  through 
his  poverty  might  be  rich."  You  Imoio  the  height 
from  which  he  stooped.  You  know  the  depth  of 
humiliation  to  which  he  descended  ;  that  he  found 
no  resting-place  between  his  throne  and  the  cross. 
You  know  for  whom  he  did  this — for  his  enemies, 
his  destroyers.  You  know  that  he  did  this  volunta- 


274  MAMMON 

rily  ;  that  he  was  under  no  necessary  obligation  to 
endure  it ;  that  his  own  love  was  the  only  obliga- 
tion ;  that  he  welcomed  each  indignity,  invited 
each  pang ;  made  them  a  part  of  his  plan  of  con- 
descension. You  know  how  earnestly  he  prose- 
cuted the  work  of  our  salvation  ;  that  in  every 
step  he  took  he  was  only  gratifying  the  compas- 
sionate yearnings  of  his  own  heart  j  that  he  as- 
sumed life  for  the  express  purpose  of  laying  it 
down  ;  that  though  he  saw,  as  fiom  a  height,  the 
whole  array  of  duty  and  trial  which  awaited  him, 
the  only  emotions  which  he  evinced  at  the  sight 
were  a  self-consuming  ardor  to  reach  the  cross 
which  stood  at  the  end  of  his  path,  a  holy  impa- 
tience to  be  baptized  with  that  baptism  of  blood. 
You  know  the  object  for  which  he  did  it  all — for 
your  salvation  ;  that  he  might  pour  his  fullness  into 
your  emptiness,  his  riches  into  your  poverty ;  that 
he  might  raise  you  to  heaven,  and  share  with  you 
the  glories  of  his  own  throne. 

You  know  this  ;  not,  indeed,  in  the  sense  of 
comprehending  it,  that  is  impossible,  for  it  is  a  love 
which  passeth  such  knowledge.  But  you  know  it 
by  report ;  you  have  heard  of  it.  It  is  the  theme 
of  the  universe.  Heaven  resounds  with  it;  the 
church  on  earth '  is  full  of  it ;  the  eternal  Father 


SECTION    II.  275 

commands  it  to  be  published  throughout  the  world. 
And  so  amazing  is  it,  the  bare  announcement  of  it 
should  be  sufficient  to  transform  selfishness  itself 
into  disinterested  love.  But  you  know  it  experi- 
mentally. You  can  look  back  on  a  time  when  you 
were  in  a  state  of  alienation  from  God  bordering 
on  perdition ;  you  have  been  plucked  as  a  brand 
from  the  burning ;  and  now  you  are  looking  for- 
wards to  eternal  life  with  Christ  in  heaven ;  and 
you  know  that  you  owe  your  deliverance  and  all 
your  hopes  to  the  grace  of  Christ.  You  know  what 
he  endured  for  your  redemption  ;  that  he  loved 
you,  "and  gave  himself  for  you ;"  and  will  you 
withhold  from  him  any  thing  in  your  possession  ? 
Can  you  believe  that  he  died  for  you  ?  that,  in 
dying,  he  wore  your  name  upon  his  breast  ]  that 
his  heart  cherished  the  thought  of  your  happiness  ] 
that  he  made  himself  poor  to  enrich  you  ?  and  will 
you  not  freely  contribute  of  your  worldly  sub- 
stance to  diffuse  the  knowledge  of  his  grace  ? 

Did  he  employ  his  heavenly  powers  solely  for 
your  salvation?  lay  himself  out  for  your  happiness  I 
Yes,  saith  he,  "  For  their  sakes  I  sanctify  myself. 
1  set  myself  apart,  I  appropriate  all  I  have  and 
am  to  the  work  of  their  salvation."  And  he  did 
so.  When  did  he  ever  go  about  but  to  do  good  ? 


27G  MAMMON. 

"When  did  he  ever  open  his  hand  but  to  bless  1  oi 
weep,  but  in  sympathy  with  human  wo  1  What 
object  did  he  ever  pursue  but  that  of  benevolence  ] 
imparting  life  to  the  dying,  pardon  to  the  guilty, 
purity  to  the  depraved,  blessings  to  all  around  him 
"  Let  the  same  mind  be  in  you  which  was  also  in 
Christ  Jesus.'*  He  was  the  author  of  riches,  and 
the  heir  of  all  things ;  but  all  he  possessed  he  gave 
for  your  salvation,  and  all  that  you  possess  you 
should  employ  for  his  glory.  You  enjoy  a  portion 
of  this  world's  goods ;  consider  the  use  which  lie 
would  have  made  of  it,  and  copy  his  divine  example. 
Did  he  not  only  employ  his  heavenly  powers,  but 
actually  deny  himself,  suffer,  die  for  your  happi- 
ness 1  He  pleased  not  himself.  He  endured  the 
cross,  despising  the  shame.  He  poured  out  his  soul 
unto  death.  Himself  he  would  not  save.  He  would 
not  come  down  from  the  cross.  O  !  how  did  he,  for 
a  season,  annihilate  himself!  How  did  he  take  our 
place,  take  our  curse,  and  endure  it  all !  That  icas 
compassion.  That  was  looking  on  the  things  of 
others.  That  was  benevolence — disinterested,  un- 
paralleled, matchless  benevolence.  Let  this  mind 
be  in  you.  Never  can  you  hope  to  equal  it,  for  it  is 
infinite — the  grace  of  a  God  :  but  so  much  the 
greater  your  obligation  to  approach  it  as  nearly  as 
you  can. 


SECTION    II.  277 

Christian,  you  know  his  grace — you  feel  it.  How 
much  owest  thou  unto  thy  Lord  ]  Do  you  ever  at- 
tempt to  compute  the  mighty  sum  ]  Endeavor  to 
realize  the  idea ;  and  if  then  you  feel  any  reluc- 
tance to  consecrate  your  substance  to  him,  it  can 
only  be  on  the  ground  of  its  utter  insignificance. 
Out  he  asks  for  it  as  an  expression  of  your  love — 
yes,  he  asks  for  it.  He  comes  to  you  every  time  an 
appeal  is  made  to  your  Christian  liberality,  and,  as 
he  turns  on  you  a  look  of  benignity  and  love,  he 
inquires,  "  Lovest  thou  me  ]"  And  as  he  points  to 
that  portion  of  your  property  which  ought  to  be 
devoted  to  his  cause,  he  asks  you  again,  "  Lovest 
thou  me  more  than  this  V  If  so,  devote  it  to  my 
cause,  consecrate  it  to  my  service.  And  he  saith 
unto  you  the  third  time,  "  Lovest  thou  me  ?"  If 
so,  "  feed  my  lambs,  feed  my  sheep  ;"  support  my 
poor ;  aid  my  interest  in  the  world  ;  encourage 
every  effort  made  to  bring  home  my  wandering 
sheep  ;  .think  of  the  millions  of  them  that  are  per- 
ishing, millions  for  whom  I  died  ;  shall  my  love  be 
defrauded  of  them  1  shall  I  not  behold  in  them  the 
travail  of  my  soul,  and  be  satisfied  ]  By  the  love 
you  bear  to  me,  and  by  the  infinitely  greater  love 
I  bear  to  you,  imitate  my  love  ;  and  you  know  the 
extent  of  that,  "  you  know  the  grace  of  your  Lord 


278  MAMMON. 

Jesus  Christ,  that,  though  he  was  rich,  for  youi 
sake  he  became  poor,  that  you  through  his  poverty 
might  be  rich." 

O,  Christian,  study  yo\ir  obligations  at  the  foot 
of  the  cross.  If  you  would  imbibe  the  disinterest- 
ed and  self-sacrificing  benevolence  of  your  blessed 
Lord,  take  your  station  daily  at  the  cross.  Never 
till  you  do  this,  will  you  feel  the  claims  which  he 
has  upon  you.  But  when  you  there  see  the  great 
love  wherewith  he  hath  loved  you,  we  will  defy 
you  to  be  covetous,  inactive,  selfish  in  his  cause. 
You  cannot  fail  to  love  him  ;  that  love  cannot  fail 
to  constrain  you  ;  and,  constrained  by  that,  you  will 
be  turned  into  a  pains-taking,  self  denying,  devoted 
servant  of  Christ;  to  whom  he  will  say,  daily, 
"  Well  done,  good  and  faithful  servant,"  till  the 
day  when  he  will  sum  up  all  his  grace  by  adding, 
"  Enter  thou  into  the  joy  of  thy  Lord." 

If  you  are  truly  a  Christian,  you  have  felt  that 
you  are  not  your  own,  that  you  are  bought  with  a 
price  :  in  other  words,  you  see  so  clearly,  and  feel 
so  strongly,  that  you  owe  yourself  to  Christ,  that 
you  have  gone  to  his  feet  and  implored  his  accep- 
tance of  your  soul.  But  the  dedication  of  yourself  in- 
cludes the  surrender  of  your  property. 

It  is  related  in  Roman  history,  that  wtien  the 


SECTION    II.  279 

people  of  Collatia  stipulated  about  their  surrender 
to  the  authority  and  protection  of  Rome,  the  ques- 
tion asked  was,  "  Do  you  deliver  up  yourselves, 
the  Collatine  people,  your  city,  your  fields,  your 
water,  your  bounds,  your  temples,  your  utensils, 
all  things  that  are  yours,  both  human  and  divine, 
Into  the  hands  of  the  people  of  Rome  ?"  And  on 
their  replying,  "  We  deliver  up  all,"  they  were 
received.  The  voluntary  surrender  which  you, 
Christian,  have  made  to  Christ,  though  not  so  de- 
tailed and  specific  as  this  formula,  is  equally  com- 
prehensive. And  do  you  not  account  those  your 
best  moments  when  you  feel  constrained  to  lament 
that  your  surrender  comprehends  no  more  ]  Can 
you  recall  to  mind  the  way  in  which  he  has  re- 
deemed you,  the  misery  from  which  he  has  snatch- 
ed you,  and  the  blessedness  to  which  he  is  con- 
ducting you,  without  feeling  that  he  has  bought 
you  a  thousand  times  over  ?  that  you  are  his  by 
the  tenderest,  weightiest  obligations  1  And  when 
you  feel  thus,  how  utterly  impossible  would  it  be 
for  you  at  such  a  moment  to  stipulate  for  an  ex- 
ception in  favor  of  your  property ! — to  harbor  a 
mental  reservation  in  favor  of  that  ! 

Can  you  think  of  the  blessedness  attending  the 
act  itself  of  dedication  to  God, — that  you  are  wed- 


280  MAMMON. 

ding  yourself  to  infinite  riches,  uniting  yourself  to 
infinite  beauty,  allying  yourself  to  infinite  excel 
lence;  giving  yourself  to  God,  and  receiving  God 
in  return,  so  that  henceforth  all  his  infinite  re- 
sources, his  providence,  his  Son,  his  Spirit,  his  hea- 
ven, he  Himself,  all  become  yours,  to  the  utmost 
degree  in  which  you  can  enjoy  them, — can  you 
think  of  this  without  often  repeating  the  act  ]  with- 
out feeling  that  had  you  all  the  excellencies  of  a 
myriad  of  angels,  his  love  would  deserve  the  eter- 
nal devotion  of  the  whole  1  Realize  to  your  own 
mind  the  nature  of  Christian  dedication,  and  the 
claims  of  Him  who  calls  for  it,  and,  so  far  from 
giving  penuriously  to  his  cause,  you  will  take  every 
increase  of  your  substance  into  his  presence,  and 
devote  it  to  his  praise ;  you  will  regard  every  ap- 
peal which  is  made  to  your  Christian  benevolence 
as  an  appeal  to  that  solemn  treaty  which  made  you 
his,  and  you  will  honor  it  accordingly ;  you  will 
deeply  feel  the  penury  of  all  riches  as  an  expres* 
sion  of  your  love  to  him ;  Lebanon  would  not  be 
sufficient  to  burn,  or  the  beasts  thereof  an  offering 
large  enough,  to  satisfy  the  cravings  of  your  love. 
Think,  moreover,  of  the  high  design  for  which 
God  condescends  to  accept  your  surrender.  Not  that 
you  may  live  to  yourself,  but  entirely  to  him.  Hav- 


SECTION    II.  281 

ing  disposed  and  enabled  you  to  give  yourself  to 
him,  he  would  then  baptize  you  in  the  element  of 
divine  love,  and  give  you  to  the  world. 

"God  so  loved  the  world  that  he  gave  his  only 
begotten  Son  "  to  redeem  it.  The  object,  indeed, 
for  which  he  was  given  wras,  like  himself,  infinite ; 
an  object  which  never  can  be  shared,  and  which 
never  need  be  repeated.  But  the  office  to  which 
God  designates  every  man  from  the  moment  of  his 
conversion  is  meant  to  be  a  new  donation  to  the 
world.  The  relation  in  which  he  places  him  to  the 
world  is  meant  to  be  a  fresh  expression  of  the  same 
infinite  love  which  prompted  him  to  give  Christ ; 
it  is  to  be  viewed  as  nothing  less  than  a  symbolical 
representation  to  the  world  of  that  unspeakable  gift. 
He  is  not  that  gift,  but  is  sent  to  bear  witness  of 
that  gift ;  not  merely  to  announce  it  with  his  lips, 
but  to  describe  and  commemorate  its  fulness  and 
freeness  in  his  own  character.  Like  his  blessed 
Lord,  he  is  to  look  upon  himself  as  dedicated  to 
the  cause  of  human  happiness,  dedicated  from 
eternity. 

Christian,  you  know  the  grace  of  our  Lord  Jesus 
Christ, — might  the  world  infer  the  existence  of  his 
grace  from  your  conduct  1  Is  your  benevolence 
worthy  of  him,  who,  "  though  he  was  rich,  for 


282  MAMMON. 

your  sake  became  poor  V  He  turned  himself  into 
a  fountain  of  grace  and  love,  and  called  you  to  be 
a  Christian,  that  you  might  be  a  consecrated  chan- 
nel of  his  grace  to  others.  He  requires  all  the  be- 
nevolent agency  of  heaven  and  earth  to  be  put  into 
motion,  in  order  to  do  justice  to  the  purposes  of 
his  love  ;  and  he  has  called  you  into  his  service  in 
order  to  increase  that  agency.  Surely  you  are  not, 
by  the  love  of  money,  frustrating  that  design.  As 
well  for  the  perishing  world  had  he  never  died 
for  its  salvation,  if  his  appointed  and  consecrated 
agents  neglect  to  make  him  known.  Surely  you 
are  not,  by  living  only  to  yourself,  by  wasting  your 
property  on  yourself  as  fast  as  he  gives  it  to  you, 
leaving  the  world  to  infer  that  his  character  bore 
any  resemblance  to  yours  ;  and  leaving  it,  besides, 
to  perish  under  your  eye,  because  an  effort  to  save 
it  would  incur  expense.  You  have  not,  you  cannot 
have  so  learned  Christ.  But  what  then  are  you 
giving  ]  more  than  the  heathen  to  his  idol-god  1 
more  than  the  votary  of  a  corrupted  Christianity  to 
the  object  of  his  superstitious  regard  ]  or  more 
than  the  irreligious  worldling  devotes  to  pleasure 
and  self-indulgence  ]  "  What  do  ye  more  than 
others ]" 

Consider  also  the  happy  influence  which  a  spirit 


SECTION    II.  283 

of  Christian  liberality  would  Jiave  on  your  own  en- 
joyment. By  taking  from  the  flesh  the  means  of 
self-indulgence,  it  would  be  exalting  the  spirit.  It 
would  be  enlarging  your  heart,  and  ennobling 
your  character,  and  identifying  you  with  all  things 
good,  and  glorious,  and  happy  in  the  universe. 
Much  as  it  might  benefit  the  cause  of  God,  it 
would  still  more  minister  to  the  welfare  and  hap- 
piness of  your  own  soul. 

Devise  liberal  things,  and  by  liberal  things  you 
shall  stand.  Taste  the  luxury  of  doing  good,  and 
you  will  regret  that  you  began  so  late.  Select  for 
imitation  the  loftiest  examples — the  few  distin- 
guished names  whose  praise  is  in  all  the.  churches 
— and  you  will  be  conscious  of  a  delight  which  an 
angel  might  be  grateful  to  share.  God  himself  is 
the  happiest  being,  because  he  is  the  most  bene- 
volent ;  and  you  would  then  in  the  most  exalted 
sense  be  holding  fellowship  with  him  ;  you  would 
understand  experimentally  the  saying  of  our  Lord 
Jesus  Christ,  that  "  it  is  more  blessed  to  give  than 
to  receive ;"  you  would  make  all  the  beneficence 
of  the  world  your  own,  by  the  complacency  with 
which  you  would  behold  it  exercised  and  enjoyed. 

But  the  motives  to  Christian  charity  are  endless. 
The  state  of  the  world  requires  it.  How  vast  its 


284  MAMMON. 

multitudes ;  how  urgent  and  awful  their  condition  ; 
how  brief  the  hour  for  benefiting  them ;  how 
mighty  the  interest  pending  on  that  short  hour ! 
Look  where  you  will,  your  eye  will  encounter  sig- 
nals to  be  active ;  myriads  of  objects,  in  imploring 
or  commanding  attitudes,  urging  you  to  come  to 
the  help  of  the  Lord,  to  the  help  of  the  Lord 
against  the  mighty. 

The  church  calls  for  it.  It  has  many  an  agent  of 
mercy  to  send  forth,  if  you  will  but  aid  to  furnish 
the  means.  It  has  many  a  generous  purpose  in  its 
heart,  many  a  long-cherished  and  magnanimous 
project  ready  to  leap  to  its  lips,  if  your  liberality 
should  encourage  it  to  speak.  It  burns  with  a  holy 
impatience  to  reap  the  vast  harvest  of  the  heathen 
world,  which  Providence  seems  to  have  prepared 
and  to  be  keeping  for  its  sickle  : — will  you*  not  aid 
to  send  forth  more  laborers  into  the  harvest  1  It 
has  been  slumbering  at  its  post  for  ages ;  it  is 
now  awaking  to  an  alarmed  consciousness  of  its 
neglected  responsibilities,  and,  as  it  counts  up  its 
long  arrears  of  duty,  it  hastens  to  atone  for  the 
past  by  instituting  one  society,  and  adopting  one 
remedy,  after  another,  and  sending  its  agents  to 
plead  for  help  from  its  members,  in  the  name  of 
Christ, — and  will  you  not  help  it  in  its  straits  ?  A 


SECTION    II.  285 

proportion  of  its  guilt  is  lying  upon  you ; — will 
you  not  aid  it  to  retrieve  the  past  ?  and  assist  it  to 
recover  and  present  to  the  world  its  primitive  as- 
pect of  love  and  zeal  ] 

The  christians  of  apostolic  times  call  for  it.  Be- 
nevolence was  their  characteristic.  A  selfish  Chris- 
tian was  a  contradiction  of  which  they  were  hap- 
pily ignorant.  For  such  an  anomaly  their  church 
had  provided  no  place  ;  they  would  have  cast  him 
forth  from  among  them,  as  a  disgrace.  They  had 
the  grand  secret  of  giving  up  all  for  Christ,  and 
yet  accounting  themselves  rich ;  the  art  of  taking 
joyfully  the  spoiling  of  their  goods ;  the  principle 
of  finding  their  happiness  in  living  to  God,  in 
spending  and  being  spent  in  his  service.  It  would 
have  been  difficult  to  convince  them  that  they 
were  in  danger  of  giving  too  freely  to  the  cause 
of  Christ ;  that  they  were  denying  themselves  in 
giving  so  much  to  him  instead  of  consuming  it  on 
their  own  lusts,  when  they  felt  they  were  gratify- 
ing themselves  by  so  doing.  It  would  have  been 
difficult  to  convince  them  that  their  interest  was 
distinct  from  the  interest  of  Christ ;  or  that  they 
had  any  occasion  for  tears  while  his  kingdom  was 
prospering,  or  any  reason  to  exult  in  their  own 
secular  prosperity  if  it  did  not  subserve  the  ad- 


286  MAMMON. 

vancement  of  his  cause.  They  could  not  be  de- 
pressed ;  for  their  Lord  had  arisen,  and  was  reign- 
ing on  the  throne  of  heaven.  At  that  thought,  they 
not  only  rejoiced  themselves,  they  called  on  the 
universe  to  rejoice  with  them  j  for  they  saw,  in  his 
exaltation,  the  pledge  of  the  world's  salvation,  and 
of  an  eternity  of  happiness  with  him  in  heaven. 
What,  to  them,  were  a  few  intervening  days  of 
trial  and  pain  ?  They  thought  not  of  such  things  ! 
What,  to  them,  was  a  question  of  property,  whe- 
ther much  or  little  1  Not  worth  the  price  of  a 
thought !  If  they  had  it,  they  gave  it  to  that  ser- 
vice to  which  they  had  given  themselves.  If  they 
had  it  not,  they  did  not  for  a  moment  speak  of  it 
as  a  want,  or  think  of  asking  the  cause  of  the 
world's  salvation  to  stand  still  while  they  were 
engaged  in  a  scramble  with  the  world  to  obtain  it. 
The  vision  of  heaven  was  in  their  eye  ;  and,  until 
they  reached  it,  their  Lord  had  engaged  to  provide 
for  all  their  wants,  and  had  engaged  to  do  this 
solely  that  they  might  give  their  undivided  atten- 
tion to  his  service.  Of  doubts  and  fears  about  theii 
personal  interest  in  his  love,  they  appear  to  have 
known  nothing;  that  is  a  disease  peculiar  to  the 
morbid  and  selfish  piety  of  modern  days.  The  ele- 
ment of  activity  and  benevolence  in  which  they 


SECTION    II.  2S7 

lived,  secured  them  against  such  a  malady,  and 
produced  a  race  of  Christians,  vigorous,  holy,  and 
happy. 

And  is  it  from  such,  Christian,  that  you  profess 
to  have  descended  ]  do  you  claim  relationship  to 
them  ?  profess  to  represent  them  !  Bending  from 
their  seats  of  blessedness  above,  they  urge,  they 
beseech  you  to  cast  off  the  worldly  spirit  in  which 
you  have  hitherto  indulged,  and  to  take  up  their 
fallen  mantle.  They  entreat  you  no  longer  to  dis- 
grace their  name,  nor  the  infinitely  dearer  name  of 
Christ ;  to  renounce  it  at  once  as  the  greatest  ho- 
mage you  can  pay  to  it,  or  else  to  follow  them  as  far 
as  they  followed  Christ.  They  all  expect  this  from 
you  ;  they  will  demand  it  at  your  hands  when  you 
meet  them  at  the  bar  of  God. 

The  promises  and  prospects  of  prophecy  invite  it. 
Muse  on  the  prophetic  paintings  of  the  latter-day 
glory,  that  day  without  a  cloud ;  the  enemies  of 
man  subdued,  the  disorders  of  the  world  hushed, 
all  its  great  miseries  passed  away.  Christ  on  his 
throne,  in  the  midst  of  a  redeemed,  sanctified, 
happy  creation.  All  things  sacred  to  his  name ;  all 
tongues  rehearsing  for  the  last  great  chorus  of  the 
Universe  ;  all  hearts  united  in  holy  love,  and  in  that 
love  offering  themselves  up  as  one  everlasting 


288  MAMMON. 

sacrifice  ascending  before  him  in  its  own  flames ; 
new  heavens,  and  a  new  earth,  wherein  dwelleth 
righteousness.  And  is  it  possible  that  your  agency 
can  contribute  to  accelerate  that  blessed  period  ] 
These  glimpses  of  its  glory  are  afforded  you,  ex» 
pressly  to  engage  your  agency  in  its  behalf.  Not 
only  is  your  instrumentality  desirable — there  is  a 
sense  in  which  it  is  indispensable.  All  things  are 
waiting  for  it.  All  things  are  ready  but  the  church 
of  Christ ;  and  until  its  prayers,  its  wealth,  all  its 
energies  and  resources  are  laid  at  the  feet  of 
Christ,  all  things  must  continue  to  wait. 

O,  then,  by  the  mercies  of  God  ;  by  the  riches  of 
his  goodness  towards  you  in  nature,  providence, 
and  grace ;  by  the  sacredness  of  the  commands 
which  he  has  laid  upon  you  ;  by  a  legitimate  regard 
for  your  own  well-being ;  and  by  the  credit  of  that 
religion  whose  honor  should  be  dearer  to  you  than 
life, — we  beseech  you,  Christian,  to  dedicate  your 
property  to  God.  By  the  love  of  Christ;  by  the 
compassion  which  brought  him  from  the  bosom  of 
the  Father ;  by  his  painful  self-denial  and  deep  hu- 
miliation ;  by  his  obedience  unto  death,  even  the 
death  of  the  cross ;  O,  by  that  mystery  of  love 
which  led  him  to  become  poor  that  he  might  make 
you  eternally  rich — ask  yourself,  while  standing  at 


SECTION   II.  289 

the  cross,  "  How  much  owest  thou  unto  thy  Lord  1" 
and  give  accordingly.  By  the  tender  and  melting 
considerations  which  led  you  at  first  to  surrender 
yourself  to  his  claims  ;  by  the  benevolent  purposes 
which  God  had  in  view  in  calling  you  to  a  knowledge 
of  himself;  and  by  the  deep  and  holy  pleasure  to 
be  found  in  imitating  his  divine  beneficence, — look 
on  your  property  as  the  Lord's,  and  give  it  freely 
to  his  glory.  By  the  cries  of  the  world  perishing  „ 
in  ignorance  of  Christ ;  by  the  earnest  entreaties 
of  the  church  yearning  to  save  it  from  destruction, 
but  wanting  your  aid ;  as  you  profess  to  admire  the 
unparalleled  benevolence  of  the  first  Christians,  and 
to  be  actuated  by  the  same  principles ;  and  as  you 
hope  to  behold  the  consummation  of  your  Saviour's 
glory  in  the  salvation  of  the  world — we  entreat,  we 
adjure  you  to  look  on  your  property  as  given  you 
by  God  to  be  employed  in  his  service,  and  from 
this  day  to  employ  it  accordingly.  He  who  gave 
his  only-begotten  Son  for  your  salvation, — he  who 
redeemed  you  from  the  curse  of  the  law,  by  being 
made  a  curse  for  you,- — he  who  has  breathed  into 
you  the  breath  of  a  new  life,  and  is  preparing  you 
for  heaven, — the  Father,  the  Son,  and  the  Holy 
Spirit,  unite  in  urging  you  to  bring  forth  your 
Mammon. 


290  MAMMON. 

property,  and  to  lay  it  upon  the  altar  of  Christian 
sacrifice. 

And  now,  Christian,  what  shall  be  the  practical 
effect  of  the  truths  which  have  been  made  to  pass 
before  you  ?  Allow  me,  in  conclusion,  to  suggest 
what  it  ought  to  be  ;  and  may  God  the  Holy  Spirit 
give  you  grace  to  carry  it  into  practice. 

Have  you,  while  reading  the  preceding  pages, 
felt  a  single  emotion  of  benevolence  warm  and 
expand  your  heart  1  Instantly  gratify  it.  Let  it 
not  pass  from  you  in  an  empty  wish ;  but  immedi- 
ately bring  forth  something  to  be  appropriated  to 
his  glory. 

Is  your  benevolence  destitute  of  plan  1  Then, 
unless  you  can  gainsay  what  we  have  advanced  on 
the  necessity  of  system,  lose  no  time  in  devising  one. 

Are  you  a  stranger  to  self-denial  in  the  cause  of 
charity  ]  Then,  remember  that  benevolence,  with 
you,  has  yet  to  be  begun ;  for,  on  Christian  princi- 
ples, there  is  no  benevolence  without  self-denial. 

Here,  then,  is  an  object  to  take  you  at  once  to  the 
throne  of  grace.  O,  Christian,  let  it  lead  you  to  pour 
out  your  soul  in  prayer  before  God.  Confess  that 
selfishness  by  which  you  have  hitherto  absorbed 
so  much  of  that  property  in  worldly  indulgences, 
which  ought  to  have  been  spent  in  his  service.  Ask 


SECTION   II.  291 

him  for  the  grace  of  self-denial  j  that  your  offerings 
may  henceforth  bear  a  proportion  to  the  magni- 
tude of  his  claims.  Beseech  him  to  pour  out  his 
Holy  Spirit  upon  you  and  upon  all  his  people,  as  a 
spirit  of  Christian  liberality,  that  "  Holiness  to  the 
Lord"  may  soon  be  inscribed  on  all  the  property 
of  his  church.  "  He  who  soweth  sparingly  shall 
reap  also  sparingly ;  and  he  who  soweth  bountiful- 
ly shall  reap  also  bountifully.  And  God  loveth  a 
cheerful  giver." 


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son's Reply  to  Gibbon  and  Paine. 
Pike's  Persuasives  to  Early  Piety 
Pike's  Guide  to  Young  Disciples. 
Anecdotes  for  the  Family  and  the 


Social  Circle. 


Universal  Ism  Not  of  God. 
Dibble's  Thoughts  on  Missions. 
The  Bible  True. 
Songs  of  Zion. 

Considerations  for  Young  Men. 
Who  are  the  Happy  ? 
Letters  on  Universalism. 


ELEGANT  PRACTICAL  WORKS. 


Wilberforce's  Practical  View. 
Hannah  More's  Practical  Piety 
James'  Anxious  Inquirer. 
Elijah  the  Tishbite. 
Nevins'  Practical  Thoughts. 
Melvill's  Bible   Thoughts,  selected 
by  the  late  Rev.  Dr.  Milnor. 


CHRISTIAN  MEMOIRS. 


Harris'  Mammon. 
Gurney's  Love  to  God. 
Foster's  Appeal  to  the  Young- 
Abbott's  Young  Christian. 
Abbott's  Mother  at  Home. 
Abbott's  Child  at  Home. 
James'  Young  Man  from  Home. 


Rev.  Claudius  Buchanan,  LL.D.,  in- 
cluding his  Christian  Researches 
in  Asia. 

Rev.  John  Newton. 

Rev.  Henry  Martyn. 

Rev.  David  Brainerd. 

Rev.  Edward  Payson,  D.  D. 

Harriet  L.  Winslow,  Missionary  in 


India. 


James  Brainerd  Taylor. 
Harlan  Page. 
Normand  Smith. 
Richard  Baxter. 
Archbishop  Leightott. 
Matthew  Henry. 
Rev.  Samuel  Pearce. 
Rev.  Samuel  Kilpin. 


OTHER  SPIRITUAL  WORKS. 


Edwards  on  the  Affections. 
Baxter's  Call  to  the  Unconverted. 
Alleine's  Alarm  to  the  Unconverted. 
Flavel  's  ^Touchstone . 
Flavel  on  Keeping  the  Heart. 
Helffenstein's  Self-Deception. 
Skerman's    Guide    to    an  Acqaint- 


Pike's  Religion  and  Eternal  Life. 
Baxter's  Dying  Thoughts. 
Matthew  Henry  on  Meekness. 
Andrew  Fuller's  Backslider. 
Scudder's   Redeemer's    Last    Com- 
mand. 
Scudder's  Appeal  to  Mothers. 


ance  with  God.  Burder's  Sermons  to  the  Aged. 

MISCELLANEOUS  WORKS. 

Mason  on  Self-Knowledge. 
Sherman's  Guide  to  an  Acquaint- 
ance with  God. 
Divine  Law  of  Beneficence. 
Zaccheus,  or  Scriptural  Plan  of  Be- 
nevolence. 


Bogue's  Evidences  of  Christianity. 
Keith's  Evidence  of  Prophecy. 
Morison's  Counsels  to  Young  Men. 
The  Reformation  in  Europe. 
Nevins'  Thoughts  on  Popery. 
Spirit  of  Popery,  [12  engravings.] 


The  Colporteur  and  Roman-catholic. 


POCKET  MANUALS. 


Hymns  for  Social  Worship. 


Clarke's  Scripture  Promises. 

The  Book  of  Psalms. 

The  Book  of  Proverbs 

Daily  Scripture  Expositor. 

Ten  Commandments  Explained. 

Bean  and  Venn's  Advice  to  a  Married 

Couple. 

Hymns  for  Infant  Minds. 
Reasons  of  Repose. 
Daily  Food  for  Christians. 


Chaplet  of  Flowers. 

Heavenly  Manna. 

Cecil  and  FlaveFs  Gift  for  Mourn- 

ers. 

Daily  Texts. 

Diary.  [Daily  Texts  interleaved.] 
Crumbs  from  the  Master's  Table. 
Milk  for  Babes. 

Provision  for  Passing  orer  Jordan. 
Dew-Drops. 


BOOKS  FOR  THE  YOUNG. 

MANY  OF  THEM  BEAUTIFULLY  ILLUSTRATED  WITH  ENGRAVINGS. 


Gallaudet's  Scripture  Biography,  7 

volumes,  from  Adam  to  David. 
Gallaudet's  Youth's  Book  of  Natural 

Theology. 
Peep  of  Day. 
Line  upon  Line. 
Precept  upon  Precept. 
Hannah  More's  Repository  Tracts. 
Mary  Lundie  Duncan. 
Charlotte  Elizabeth. 
Martha  T.  Sharp. 
Fletcher's  Lectures. 
John  D.  Lockwood. 
Memoir  of  Caroline  E.  Smelt. 
Gallaudet's    Child's    Book   on   the 

Soul. 

Anzonetta  R.  Peters. 
The  Night  of  Toil. 
Advice  to  a  Young  Christian. 
Madam   Rumpff   and   Duchess   de 

Broglie. 

Scudder's  Tales  about  the  Heathen. 
Amelia,  the  Pastor's  Daughter. 


Trees,  Fruits,  and  Flowers  of  the 
Bible,  [9  cuts.] 

Jessie  Little. 

Isabel. 

Walker's  Faith  Explained. 

Walker's  Repentance  Explained. 

Margaret  and  Henrietta. 

Bartimeus. 

Children  invited  to  Christ. 

The  Dairyman's  Daughter,  etc. 

Peet's  Scripture  Lessons. 

Child's  Book  of  Bible  Stories. 

Children  of  the  Bible. 

Amos  Armfield,  or  the  Leather-cov- 
ered Bible. 

The  Child's  Hymn-Book.  Selected 
by  Miss  Caulkins. 

Scripture  Animals,  [16  cuts.] 

Letters  to  Little  Children,  [13  cuts.] 

Great  Truths  in  Simple  Words. 

Pictorial  Tract  Primer. 

Watt's  Divine  and  Moral  Songs. 

With  numerous  similar  works. 


ALSO, 


Dr. Edwards'  Sabbath  Manual,  Parts 
1,  2,  3,  and  4. 

Dr.  Edwards'  Temperance  Manual. 

IN  GERMAN — 56  vols.,  various  sizes, 
including  Earth's  Church  History, 
Life  of  M.  Boos,  Rules  of  Life, 
Lord's  Day,  Fahricius,  Honey- 
Drop,  Christ  Knocking  at  the 
Door,  and  two  volumes  and  pack- 
ets of  Books  for  Children,  recently 
published. 

IN  FRENCH — Sixteen  volumes. 

IN  SPANISH— D'Aubigne's  History  of 
the  Reformation,  vol.  I.,  Bogue's 


Authenticity  of  the  New  Testa- 
ment.  Pilgrim's  Progress,  Illus- 
trated Tract  Primer,  Primitive  Ca- 
tholicism, Andrew  Dunn,  Sabbath 
Manual,  Part  1,  Kirwan's  Letters, 
Evangelical  Hymns,  Temperance 
Manual,  and  Manual  for  Children, 

IN  WELSH— Pilgrim's  Progress,  Bax- 
ter's Saints'  Rest  and  Call,  Anx 
ious  Inquirer,  History  of  Redemp. 

,    tion. 

IN  DANISH— Doddridge's  Rise  anc 
Progress,  Baxter's  Saints'  Real 
and  Call. 


ALSO,  upwards  of  1,000  Tracts  and  Children's  Tracts,  separate,  bound 
or  in  packets,  adapted  for  convenient  sale  by  merchants  and  traders,  man} 
of  them  with  beautiful  engravings — in  English,  German,  French,  Spanish 
Portuguese,  Italian,  Dutch,  Danish,  Swedish,  and  Welsh. 

l£r"  It  is  the  design  of  the  Society  to  issue  all  its  publications  in  goo. 
type,  for  the  poor  as  well  as  the  rich ;  and  to  sell  them,  as  nearly  as  ma: 
te,  at  cost,  that  the  Society  may  neither  sustain  loss  nor  make  a  profit  b; 
all  iti  sales. 


14  DAY  USE 

RETURN  TO  DESK  FROM  WHICH  BORROWED 

LOAN  DEPT. 

This  book  is  due  on  the  last  date  stamped  below,  or 

on  the  date  to  which  renewed. 
Renewed  books  are  subject  to  immediate  recall. 


MAR  2  4  2007 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  LIBRARY 


, 

I,  'MM$Mh 

>          -^mml 


